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SELECT 



HISTORICAL MEMOIRS 



RELIGIOUS SOCIETY OF FRIENDS, 



COMMONLY CALLED QUAKERS. 



FOR THE INFORMATION OF YOUNG PERSONS, AND 
INQUIRERS AFTER DIVINE TRUTH. 



By WILLIAM HODGSON, Jr. 



We are nothing— Christ is all."— Geo. Fox. 



PHILADELPHIA 




FOR SALE BY THE AUTHOR, NO. 207 MULBERRY STREET I 

AT FRIENDS' BOOK-STORE, NO. 84 MULBERRY ST.; 

BY NATHAN KITE, APrLETREE ALLEY, AND 

U. HUNT AND SON, NO. 101 HIGH ST. 

1844. 




&*m 



i ) 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1844, 

BY WILLIAM HODGSON, JE., 

in the clerk's office of the District Court, for the Eastern District 
of Pennsylvania. 



>** 



JOSEPH AND WILLIAM KITE, PRINTERS. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. page. 

Introductory remarks on the character of the primi- 
tive Christian Church, and subsequent corruptions, 9 

CHAPTER II. 

Early life and convincement of George Fox — his 
call to the ministry — and imprisonment — called a 
Quaker, 19 

CHAPTER III. 

Account of some of the doctrines and testimonies 
promulgated by the founders of the Society of 
Friends, 31 

CHAPTER IV. 

Convincement of William Dewsbury — and Edward 

Burrough, 40 

CHAPTER V. 

Convincement of Thomas Thompson — and further 

transactions of George Fox, 49 

CHAPTER VI. 

Convincement of Francis Howgill — George White- 
head — and Judge Fell's family — George Fox still 
persecuted — first convincements in London, 57 



IV CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VII. page. 

Rise of the Society in Ireland — William Edmundson, 69 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Convincement of Humphrey Bache, 81 

CHAPTER IX. 

Account of James Parnell — he dies in prison — 

George Fox imprisoned in Launceston gaol, 88 

CHAPTER X. 

The convincement, ministry, and fall of James Nay- 

ler — his repentance, and death, 102 

CHAPTER XI. 

First visits of Friends to America — cruel persecutions 

in New England, &c, 113 

CHAPTER XII. 

Martyrdom of William Robinson, Marmaduke Ste- 
venson, Mary Dyer, and William Leddra — 
George Fox imprisoned in Scarborough Castle, 127 

CHAPTER XIII. 
Convincement of Richard Davies, 136 

CHAPTER XIV. 

George Robinson goes to Jerusalem, and Mary 

Fisher to Turkey, 148 

CHAPTER XV. 

The sufferings of Catharine Evans and Sarah Chee- 
vers in the inquisition at Malta — and of John 
Philly and William Moore, in Hungary, &c, 154 



CONTENTS. V 

CHAPTER XVI. page. 

Edward Burrough and Richard Hubberthorn, being 
violently seized at the Bull-and-Mouth Meeting, die 
in prison, 162 

CHAPTER XVII. 

The sufferings of Elizabeth Hooton and others in 

New England, 168 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
The extravagancies of John Per rot, 173 

CHAPTER XIX. 
Rise of the Society in Scotland, 177 

CHAPTER XX. 

Account of Thomas Lurting and the Algerine pi- 
rates, 189 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Death of Samuel Fisher — account of his convince- 

ment, &c, 197 

CHAPTER XXII. 

The sufferings of Richard Seller, for his testimony 
against war, on board the flag-ship " Royal 
Prince," 201 

CHAPTER XXIII. 
William Penn's early life, and convincement, 209 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Remarkable conversion of a woman imprisoned for 

murder — death of Francis Howgill in prison, 216 



VI CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXV. page. 

Meetings for discipline instituted in the Society — 
George Fox goes to America — and returning, is 
imprisoned at Worcester, 221 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

The trial of William Penn and William Mead at the 

Old Bailey — destruction of Friends' meeting-houses, 233 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

The separation of Wilkinson and Story — and the 

heresy of JefFery Bullock, 242 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 
William Penn's travels in Holland and Germany, 247 

CHAPTER XXIX. 
Account of Isaac Penington, 255 

CHAPTER XXX. 

Pennsylvania granted to William Penn — persecution 

at Bristol, 263 

CHAPTER XXXT. 

The deaths of David and Robert Barclay, and George 

Fox, 272 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

The persecution of Friends during the civil wars in 

Ireland, in the reign of James II., 283 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 
Account of Thomas Story's convincement, 296 



CONTENTS. VII 

CHAPTER XXXIV. page. 

The labours of Joseph Pike and others in Ireland, 
for a reformation from the spirit and habits of the 
world, 302 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

The apostacy of George Keith, 307 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

Peter Gardiner's journey to Scotland, and death, 315 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

Samuel Bownas comes forth in the ministry — ac- 
count of his early life — Friends' peaceable testi- 
mony maintained during the Indian wars in New 
England, 323 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

Shipwreck and remarkable preservation of Susanna 
Morris — examples of zeal and simplicity in Ire- 
land, 332 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

The trials to which Friends were subjected during 

the x\merican revolutionary war, 337 

CHAPTER XL. 

Rise and progress of the Society's testimony against 

Slavery, 347 

CHAPTER XLI. 

Account of John Wool man, 356 

CHAPTER XLII. 

Account of John Churchman, 368 






Vlll CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XLIII. page. 

The sufferings of Friends in Ireland, during the re- 
bellion of 1798, for their faithful adherence to the 
principles of peace, 374 

CHAPTER XLIV. 
The separation in Ireland in 1799, &c, 388 

CHAPTER XLV. 

Thomas Shillitoe's early life and convincement — his 

remarkable gospel labours in Ireland, &c, 393 

CHAPTER XLVI. 

The heresy of Elias Hicks and his followers, 408 

Conclusion, 415 



SELECT 



HISTORICAL MEMOIRS 



RELIGIOUS SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 



CHAPTER I. 

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS ON THE CHARACTER OF THE PRIMI- 
TIVE CHRISTIAN CHURCH, AND SUBSEQUENT CORRUPTIONS. 

The religion instituted by our Lord and Saviour 
Jesus Christ, and spread abroad in the world by his 
blessed Spirit accompanying the labours of his inspired 
apostles, was beautiful for its simplicity and adapta- 
tation to man's spiritual need. The preceding Mo- 
saic dispensation, while it enjoined devotion of heart 
to the Creator, according to the measure of light 
vouchsafed, was nevertheless characterized by a 
multitude of outward observances, suited to the state 
of the people, which did not make the comers there- 
unto perfect, yet pointed to the substance of that 
which was to follow. But when our blessed Lord, 
in his coming, sufferings and death, had fulfilled and 
abrogated the ceremonial requirements of the law, 
he introduced the more glorious dispensation of the 
Gospel, in which life and immortality, and the myste- 
ries of redeeming love, were brought to light. The 
former dispensation was outward and typical, the 
latter inward and spiritual ; in which, through the 
regenerating power of divine grace, the heart was to 
be made the temple of the Holy Ghost. Christ de- 
clared himself to be " the way, the truth and the life;" 
that no man can come to the Father but by Him ; 

2 



10 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF 

and that " except a man be born again, he cannot 
see the kingdom of God." It was not in outward 
appearance only, that a change was to be made in 
the natural man ; but the axe was to be laid to the 
root of the tree, and every tree that bringeth not 
forth good fruit, was to be hewn down and cast into 
the fire. 

The lives of his followers were to be characterized 
by holiness, and watchfulness unto prayer; every indi- 
vidual seeking a knowledge of Grod for himself, instead 
of depending on a class of men set apart for the pur- 
pose of exclusively conducting the affairs of religion, 
as had prevailed among the heathen, and even in 
degree among the Jews themselves. This knowledge 
of God and of the way of life was to be obtained by 
the repenting sinner, through inward waiting of the 
soul on the Lord himself in humility and sincerity ; 
through submission to the cleansing operations of the 
" Word quick and powerful, and sharper than any two 
edged sword, piercing to the dividing asunder of soul 
and spirit ;" and through unreserved obedience to the 
secret manifestations of the Divine Spirit, which was 
promised " to lead into all truth." The disciples 
were distinctly informed by the Saviour, that He was 
" the Light of the world," and that He who was with 
them in that prepared body, should henceforth be in 
them, by his blessed Spirit. To this Light therefore, 
even Christ in them the hope of Glory, the primitive 
Christians looked, as the great Guide of life. This it 
was that was to " sanctify them wholly ;" so that all 
were to be " kings and priests unto God," and to seek 
to be made " perfect as the Father who is in Heaven 
is perfect." 

The followers of a crucified Lord, desirous of 
avoiding every thing that might minister to the natural 
vanity of the human heart, and thus imperceptibly 
lead away from that humility which was known to 
be an essential requisite to the character of a true 
Christian, renounced the vanities of the world, and set 



THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 11 

an example of simplicity in life and conduct. Not that 
they affected singularity, as the ascetics, hermits and 
monks afterwards did ; but, remembering the decla- 
ration of the Saviour, " whosoever doth not bear his 
cross, and come after me, cannot be my disciple," 
they dared not to sanction in their own practice those 
incentives to a worldly spirit, and the gratification 
of " the lust of the eye and the pride of life." 

Neither dared they, in defiance of the law of univer- 
sal love taught them by their adorable Redeemer, to 
cherish in their hearts those dispositions which lead 
man to destroy his fellow-man, either in revenge or 
in self-preservation. War they knew to be prohibited 
by the whole tenor of the " gospel of peace," no less 
than by the positive injunctions of Him who said, 
" love your enemies — do good to them that hate you, 
and pray for them that despitefully use you and per- 
secute you." Many instances of deep suffering proved 
the hold which this peaceful principle had on the 
minds of the early believers. We need hardly cite 
the well known example of the martyr Maximilian, 
who, even in the third century, nobly declared in the 
face of death, that " because he was a Christian" he 
could not take arms nor engage in war, even though 
at the command of the Roman proconsul ; for the 
refusal to fight was generally acknowledged to be a 
distinguishing feature of the Christian profession.* 

Their outward callings w T ere to be such as should 
not clash with their testimony to purity and holiness 
and self-denial; nor were they at liberty, like the 
people of the heathen world around them, to please 
themselves with frivolous amusements, calculated to 
drown serious thought, and call away their attention 
from the one great business of this life, a preparation 
for the life to come. Hence the primitive Christians 

* Tertullian, (De Corona mililis) says emphatically, " Will the child 
of peace engage in hattle, to whom it is not becoming even to dispute 
with his fellow-men at law?" — "Faith admits not the plea of neces- 
sity." 



12 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF 

could not join their fellow-men in attending theatrical 
entertainments; and a modern European author* de- 
clares : " It was no uncommon mark, by which a 
man's conversion to Christianity was ascertained, 
that he wholly withdrew from the theatre" — where 
" much took place which violated the moral feelings 
and decencies of Christians ; and even \a here this 
was not the case, yet even then the hour-long pursuit 
of idle and vain objects — the unholy spirit which 
reigned in these assemblies — the wild uproar of the 
collected multitude, seemed hardly to suit the holy 
seriousness of the Christian's priestly character." 

All oaths they declined, as positively forbidden by 
Christ and his apostle James, and confined themselves 
to a simple affirmation or denial. 

Sincerity and Truth were indeed stamped upon 
their character. Their lives and actions were to be 
examples of the one, and all their words of the other. 
Hence they could not address their fellow-man in the 
plural number, as if he were more than a common 
man like themselves, a practice which then began to 
prevail, in flattery towards the emperors, and soon 
rapidly spread to other men who desired the honour 
or deference of their supposed dependents. 

The church was the community of the faithful dis- 
ciples of Christ, the world over — and a church was 
a collection of these disciples w T herever assembled, 
under the presidency of Christ their holy head, own- 
ing no other, waiting for the help and guidance of 
His blessed Spirit, and moving only according to the 
pointings of His heavenly finger. These, being truly 
gathered in His name, knew Him to be " in the midst 
of them." 

Their worship was to be spiritual — " in spirit and 
in truth." The preaching of the gospel was to be 
" not in the words which man's wisdom teacheth, but 

* Neander, of Berlin, author of a " his!ory of the Christian religion 
and church." Soe also Tertullian, " De Spectaculis ;" and Cyprian, 
Ep. vi. ad Eucraliurrt. 



THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 13 

which the Holy Ghost teacheth," and "in demon- 
stration of the Spirit and of power." As it was to 
be " freely received" from Him who ascended up 
on high and " gave gifts unto men," so it was to be 
freely dispensed to the people, without any pecuniary 
consideration, and in simple reliance on the openings 
of the divine gift from time to time. It was not to be 
dependent on school learning for its qualification, nor 
on the will of man for its appointment ; but the preach- 
er of the gospel was to be " called of God as was 
Aaron ;" and, whether male or female, was to " min- 
ister in the ability which God giveth." A state of 
silent waiting before the Lord was evidently the right 
posture of mind in which his poor and dependent crea- 
tures should appear before Him, and essential to the per- 
formance of divine worship. There can be no question 
that their devotional exercises were of the most sim- 
ple nature, consisting primarily of this waiting together 
on the God of their lives, and secondly of prayer and 
praise to the author of all good, and preaching the 
gospel of the kingdom, for the edification of the 
churches or the conversion of men. And that these 
exercises were extempore — without previous prepa- 
ration — there never has been a doubt. 

Equally certain is it, that those who were exercised 
among them as pastors, teachers or apostles, claimed 
no salary or emolument as the price of their services ; 
but generally obtained their temporal subsistence by 
their own exertions, in common with their brethren ; 
though when actually prevented from attending to 
their outward affairs, by travelling about in the ser- 
vice of the Gospel, they considered themselves at 
liberty to partake of the hospitality of the churches, 
freely offered for their accommodation. 

For a time, the church continued practically to 
carry out these principles ; and some of them were 
even for several ages generally acknowledged. But 
a change came gradually over this pure and simple 
state. Not that the system of religion instituted by 

2* 



14 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF 

the divine author of Christianity was less calculated 
in its simple form for an advanced state of civiliza- 
tion than for the condition of the world when the Son 
of God appeared in the prepared body. A most 
admirable feature of genuine Christianity is its per- 
fect adaptation to man in every state of mental 
advancement, and in all possible variety of outward 
circumstances. But man's natural, unregenerate will 
is ever seeking an easier way to the kingdom of 
heaven than the way of the cross and of unreserved 
obedience to the Light of Christ shining in the heart. 
And as the community of professing Christians be- 
came more and more composed in part of individuals 
who had received their profession by birth, and not 
by the thorough heart-searching work of conversion, 
this feature of seeking an easier way, rapidly gained 
ground ; and the life of religion being much lost, form 
usurped the place of power. 

We have no means of ascertaining at the present 
day, at what time the system of hiring the services of 
preachers crept into the church ; but there is reason 
to believe that it commenced at an early date after the 
decease of the apostles, and of those who had enjoyed 
the privilege of personal association with them. The 
necessity for all to be "kings and priests unto God," 
in all holiness and spiritual conversation, was gladly 
forgotten by those seekers after ease ; and it was 
found much more agreeable to the carnal mind and 
inclinations, to fall back upon the old practice of a 
priesthood, and depend on the ceremonial exercises 
and performances which others could do for them, 
than to " w r ork out their own salvation with fear and 
trembling." 

A class of men was accordingly set apart, whose 
business it should be to take the {cur a) care of souls ; 
and this class soon arrogantly assuming the epithet of 
clergy, (xtogot, inheritance or lot,*) as if they only 

* '* Clcrus {a x.x»£oc, sors, quia clems sors Dei, vel cleri sors Deus,) 
— the clergy or churchmen. Mac notio apud Latinos scriptores, 6'. 



THE SOCIETY OF FKIEXD3. 15 

were the " Lord's portion"' and the " lot of his inherit- 
ance," disdained to obtain their livelihood by labour 
or common business ; but professing that their time 
must be entirely taken up in caring for those depend- 
ent on them for " the means of grace," claimed to be 
maintained at the expense of the community. Thus 
did a hireling priesthood supplant both the free unpaid 
ministry of the gospel, and the individual priestly 
character of the spiritual Christian ; and thus was a 
wide door opened, both for further corruptions in the 
profession of Christianity, and for relaxation of the 
solemn responsibilities resting upon each individual. 

When once the hireling ministers had established 
themselves in the professing Christian church, they 
were not slow in discovering that their influence over 
the flock, and consequently their pecuniary interest, 
would be greatly enhanced by the introduction of one 
ceremonial performance after another as necessary to 
salvation or edification. Instead, therefore, of guard- 
ing the profession of religion from innovation, they 
eagerly promoted various corruptions ; which gradu- 
ally changed Christianity (so called) from the charac- 
ter of a pure and spiritual, heart-searching and heart- 
cleansing religion, to that of a system of lifeless per- 
formances, '• which could never make the comers 
thereunto perfect." 

Undoubtedly there were other causes which con- 
tributed to this mournful result. Originally, Christians 
had believed that all days were to be kept alike holy 
unto the Lord — though the church was wont to come 
together at stated times — more especially on the first 
day of the week — for divine worship, religious editi- 
fication, and mutual encouragement for good. This 

Hieronymi temporibus pnalo aniiquior." (Beatson & Ellis's Ains- 
worih.) So also Mean ;er ; "The Greek names xa«?cj and KAngutej 
bad even in Cyprian's lime been applied in an unevangelic sense, CSlc. 
01 uvt o xXngot tcu &ssy, or, '<*•» 'c g\»g«c 's ©a:j 'ia-ri — in imitation 
of the Levitts-/' History of the Christian Religion and Church, vol. J, 
Seel. ii. i. ti.) 



16 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF 

principle of the necessity of holiness and mental in- 
troversion every day of our lives, was manifestly 
calculated to incite the mind to continual watchful- 
ness as in the presence of the omniscient Lord, and 
thus to promote the entire purification of man's nature. 
But gradually, as the institution of a caste of priests 
took place of the maintenance of the doctrine 
that all are called to be " priests unto God,'* so the 
doctrine that one day was more holy than another, 
took the place of keeping all days holy ; and the 
notion consequently gained ground, that on the six 
working days of the week, men were not required to 
be so inward and spiritual in their minds, nor so pure 
in their lives and conduct, as on the one which w 7 as 
more particularly set apart for religious purposes. 

Another source of the corruptions of the church 
was the desire to make the way easier for heathens to 
embrace nominal Christianity. In pursuance of this 
object, many heathen ceremonies were engrafted 
under new names into the system of Christianity, and 
some even of their idolatrous "holy days" were incor- 
porated into the Christian calendar, under the pre- 
tended patronage of Christian " saints," instead of the 
heathen deities. This made the change from heathen- 
ism to the new profession comparatively nominal, and 
introduced great multitudes into the visible church, 
w T ho were destitute of the spirit and life of Christian- 
ity. 

This result, as well as the priestly influence, was 
greatly increased by the Emperor Constantine's adop- 
tion and patronage of the Christian religion ; the 
power of money and worldly rank and authority, 
being throw r n by that event into the hands of its pro- 
fessors, it became thenceforth, with only occasional 
and temporary exceptions, the religion of the state, 
and the whole Roman Empire appeared as the pro- 
tector of the religion of Christ. Men did not perceive 
how much this religion w r as changed from the state of 
purity and simplicity in which it emanated from the 



THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 17 

Lip of Truth. It is true, the Almighty had not left 
himself without witnesses for his Truth in all times of 
the world ; many sincere hearted ones here and there 
were touched by the power and light of his blessed 
Spirit, and bore from time to time a faithful testimony 
against the idolatry and superstition which had usurp- 
ed the place of Christ. But they were comparatively 
few, and were not able to stem the torrent of bigotry 
and corruption which overwhelmed the church. 

Rome now became the centre of (so called) reli- 
gious influence and power ; and these corruptions 
were, from motives of human policy, amazingly mul- 
tiplied during a long succession of ages. But the 
human mind was at length awakened, and public at- 
tention was directed to the corrupt state of the pro- 
fession of Christianity. The reformation from Popery, 
which took place in the sixteenth century, freed a 
great part of Europe from many of the most glaring 
perversions of Christian doctrine and practice ; and 
there can be no doubt that the Divine Hand promoted 
this great revolution, and guided, to a certain extent, 
the proceedings of those engaged in the work.* 

It appears, however, that even the pious and en- 
lightened men who were instruments in bringing about 
this mighty change, stopped short of arriving at an 
unclouded view of the nature of primitive Christianity. 
Excellent as were many of their spirits, and far ad- 
vanced as they were before their fellow-professors of 
the name of Christ, and thirsting as they did after a 
redemption of the world from the gross pollutions of 
Popery, they were nevertheless trammelled in some 
degree with the dogmas of their school education, 
and weakened by their dependence on the arm of 
flesh for support, and gave not themselves up unre- 
servedly to the thorough operations of that Holy 
Comforter in the secret of the soul, which, as it is 
faithfully attended to, guides " into all truth." They 

* D'Aubigne's History of the Reformatio!"), &c. 



18 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF 

nobly stepped forward, and claimed a place in the 
attention of mankind for the Holy Scriptures, which 
the Papacy had shut up as a book not fit for general 
perusal; and this was a great point gained. But. it is 
to be feared that they did not sufficiently regard the all 
important truth, that these Holy Scriptures themselves 
point to a higher rule than their own pages, for the 
direction of the mind of man, even the manifestations 
of the Spirit of Christ in the soul, by whose Light 
alone the heavenly mysteries contained in them are 
to be rightly understood. In considering the Holy 
Scriptures as the " w r ord of God," and the primary 
guide of life and rule of faith, they fell into the error 
of valuing the branch above its parent stem ; an error 
which prevented them from seeing clearly the whole 
beauty, and excellency, and purity, and spirituality of 
the gospel dispensation. 

They boldly opposed the groundless assumption of 
the Pope to be the head of the church, and dragged 
to shame the enormities practised by the priesthood 
in the name of religion and for the sake of filthy lucre. 
But they went not down to the root of the evil — to 
destroy the whole system of hireling ministry — so 
that what they deemed the gospel, still continued to 
be bought and sold ; and the result was as might have 
been anticipated, that a priesthood whose temporal 
subsistence depended on the implicit confidence placed 
in them by the people, still retained that people more 
or less in the outward court, in a state of blind reliance 
on them and their external performances, " ever 
learning, but never able to come to the knowledge of 
the Truth." 

It was accordingly reserved in the counsels of in- 
scrutable wisdom, for weak and despised men, in the 
eye of the world, to be the instruments by whom the 
attention of mankind should be powerfully directed 
to the inward principle of religion, the Spirit of Truth, 
operating in every heart, and the church should be 
called back to a state of purity and spirituality, such 



THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 19 

as characterized it in the days of the apostles and 
primitive believers. 



CHAPTER II. 



EARLY LIFE AND CONVINCEMENT OF GEORGE FOX HIS 

CALL TO THE MINISTRY AND IMPRISONMENT CALLED 

A QUAKER. 

It was about the middle of the seventeenth century, 
that the Lord was pleased to visit the British nation, 
and some other portions of professing Christendom, 
with a more clear and certain sound of the word of 
life, and proclamation of the way of salvation, than 
had been known for many ages past. 

That nation was still heaving in great unsettlement, 
from the effects of the awful storm which had uproot- 
ed the foundations of its ancient social, religious, and 
political establishments, deprived Charles the First 
of his throne and life, and temporarily placed Oliver 
Cromwell at the head of the English commonwealth. 
As, under Charles-, great laxity of morals and neglect 
of duty had prevailed among the ministers of the 
" established church," many of whom had given 
themselves up to idle and licentious practices; so on the 
other hand, when these were turned out, to give place 
to the Puritans under the commonwealth, great out- 
ward strictness and loud pretensions to sanctity, often 
unaccompanied by the real life of religion, were the 
road to preferment, and were consequently in many 
instances assumed as a mere cloak over a worldly 
spirit, from ambitious views. 

The profession of religion, nevertheless, was cer- 
tainly held in much higher esteem than before. In 
the camp, as well as at the fire-side, religion was the 
absorbing topic. The republican army abounded 



20 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF 

with preachers ; and preaching, praying, and dis- 
puting on doctrines, were daily to be heard among 
both officers and soldiers : though much of this was 
extremely superficial, and a pharisaical notion of 
soundness, and contempt for others, too much pre- 
vailed. 

The spirit of inquiry, however, which had arisen 
with the reformation of the sixteenth century, had 
greatly shaken the general confidence in the priest- 
hood ; men now considered themselves at liberty to 
form their own opinions on matters relating to their 
eternal condition ; and the public assemblies for divine 
worship were continually scenes of religious dispute 
between the contending parties. The late intestine 
wars, with the troubles thereby brought on many 
families throughout the nation, were instrumental in 
turning the minds of some to an anxious desire after 
a resting place for the agitated soul. There were 
those who had learned in sore adversity, duly to esti- 
mate the emptiness and uncertainty of all the gratifi- 
cations of this world, and to pant after a knowledge 
of the Source and Centre of happiness and peace. 
And the Lord left not to themselves these sincere- 
hearted seekers after a solid foundation for their 
hopes ; but led many of them into greater degrees of 
spiritual-mindedness ; in which they were enabled to 
perceive and feel the unsatisfactory nature of those 
forms of religion, which, notwithstanding the partial 
reformation from Popery, still stood in the place of 
pure and primitive Christianity. But these were 
scattered abroad in the country, as sheep having no 
shepherd nor fold; they were unknown to each other, 
and not gathered into the enclosure of a visible soci- 
ety professing what their souls yearned after. They 
knew not but that they were alone in the deep exer- 
cise and spiritual travail which they experienced ; 
and consequently they hailed as a most welcome 
message the testimony borne by George Fox and his 
fellow-labourers to pure and spiritual religion. They 



1624.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 21 

found a life and savour in his ministry very different 
from the dead and formal discourses to which they 
had been wont to listen; which was a cordial to their 
panting spirits, and led them to a more intimate 
knowledge of that Divine and inspeaking Word 
whom their souls had sincerely loved and earnestly 
waited for. 

George Fox, the honoured instrument of gathering 
these scattered and retired ones into a visible church, 
was born at Drayton, in Leicestershire, England, in 
the year 1624. His father was noted for the justice 
and honesty of his character, and his mother, who 
was of the stock of the martyrs, was a woman 
accomplished above most of her station in the place 
of their residence. From a child, George displayed 
a remarkably religious, inward, quiet frame of mind. 
At the same time he was observing, even beyond his 
years, frequently to the astonishment of those who 
heard and conversed with him, especially on religious 
topics. He was brought up in country business, and 
was skilful in the tending of sheep ; an employment 
which well suited a mind seeking after solitude and 
innocency, and was a just emblem of his subsequent 
ministry and service in the fold of Christ. The 
restraining and sanctifying operations of Divine Grace 
were experienced by him whilst very young ; and the 
Lord taught him to be faithful in all things, inwardly 
to God, and outwardly to man. His own account 
says that when he was about eleven years of age, he 
experienced pureness and righteousness; he was 
taught to keep strictly to the truth in all things, not 
daring to use the least degree of prevarication : his 
words were to be few and savoury, seasoned with 
grace ; and he was to observe temperance both in 
eating and drinking, using the creatures of God as 
servants in their places, to the glory of Him who 
created them. 

When he was about nineteen years of age, being 
on business at a fair, his mind was greatlv distressed, 

3 



88 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1643. 

in observing the wantonness of some professors of 
religion, who scrupled not to indulge themselves in 
excess of drinking, and what is termed drinking of 
healths. He bore his testimony against their folly, 
and went away; but could not rest the following 
night, which he spent in walking up and down, and 
in prayer to the Lord. He was answered by this 
divine intimation : " Thou seest how young people go 
together into vanity, and old people into the earth ; 
thou must forsake all, both young and old, and keep 
out of all, and be a stranger unto all." Soon after 
this, he believed it to be his duty to leave his rela- 
tions, and for some time he led a solitary life, inti- 
mately communing with none but his Maker and 
Redeemer ; and was thus gradually weaned from all 
dependence on his fellow-man, in matters relating to 
the safety of the soul. He travelled through various 
counties of England, avoiding the company of the 
high but empty professors of religion; and many 
were the deep exercises and sore temptations which 
befel him for several months ; in which he was led 
to review his past life, and consider whether his own 
wrong doings were the cause of his present distress. 
He knew not at that time that those deep baptisms of 
spirit were necessary to prepare him for the work 
whereunto his Master was about to call him. After 
a while, being fearful that his long absence might 
grieve his relations, he returned home, and continued 
there with some intermission, for more than a year, 
in great sorrows and troubles, often spending the 
night in walking alone, and in religious meditation. 

Some of the priests of the neighbourhood sought 
his acquaintance, and reasoned with him at various 
times on religious subjects, but could give him no 
satisfaction, in their carnal wisdom they knew not 
his condition, and could not understand the nature of 
his mental conflicts. One bid him take tobacco, and 
sing psalms. Another, who was accounted an expe- 
rienced man, he says he found only like an empty 



1645.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 23 

hollow cask. A third disgusted him by his unchecked 
passionate temper, ruffled by the least trifle, showing 
the possessor to be far from that state of meekness 
and calmness which would have become his profes- 
sion. A fourth priest advised medicine and bleeding ; 
so that George found them miserable comforters, and 
entirely ignorant of his need. 

One of his interviews with Nathaniel Stevens, the 
priest of Drayton, with whom he often conversed, 
and who frequently made the observations of this 
enlightened youth serve as embellishments of his own 
sermons, is worthy of particular notice. This priest 
asked George, why Christ cried out upon the cross, 
" My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ?' 
and why he said, " If it be possible, let this cup pass 
from me ; yet not my will, but thine be done." George 
told him, " that at that time the sins of all mankind 
were upon Him, and their iniquities and transgres- 
sions ; with which He was wounded, which He was 
to bear, and to be an offering for as He was man, 
but he died not as He was God ; and so, in that He 
died for all men, and tasted death for every man, He 
was an offering for the sins of the whole world." 
This, he says, he spoke, being then in measure sensi- 
ble of Christ's sufferings, and what he went through ; 
and the priest remarked that " it was a very good 
answer, and such as he had not heard." This com- 
prehensive reply to the inquiring priest, who with all 
his learned preparation for the ministry, could not 
understand the mysteries of redeeming love, furnishes 
abundant refutation of the calumny by which George 
Fox has been maliciously charged in modern times 
with unsoundness in the very fundamental articles of 
the Christian faith. It shows, in a manner not to be 
contradicted, that this heavenly-minded man had a 
clear and full belief in the Saviour as the eternal Son 
of God, and yet as having partaken also of the nature 
of man ; in the sacrifice which He made of himself 
upon the cross for the sins of mankind; and in the 



24 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1647, 

atoning virtue and universal efficacy of this sacrifice 
to the redemption of the souls of men, through living 
faith and obedience to His Divine Light in the heart. 
And that this sound belief in these important doctrines 
was not merely the belief of George Fox's youthful 
days, is proved by his thus fully recording this trans- 
action in after-life. 

During this time of opening manhood, not only 
was he exercising himself in the duties of Christian 
benevolence to his destitute fellow- creatures, but his 
mind was enlarging in experience, and in acquaint- 
ance with the doctrines of pure Christianity, as dis- 
tinguished from the systems taught in the schools and 
colleges. He was enabled to see that notwithstand- 
ing men's high professions, none were true believers 
but those who " were born of God and passed from 
death unto life," and that being brought up at the 
universities or colleges was not enough to qualify a 
man to be a minister of Christ. Here again he was 
brought off from a reliance on any but the Lord 
Jesus Christ, the great Minister of ministers, who 
would teach his people himself. He was also shown 
that he was not to apply the word church or temple 
of God to any building ; the Lord, according to the 
apostle's testimony, dwelling in the heart of man and 
making that his temple, and a church of Christ being 
a collection of living disciples, not the walls within 
which they or others might assemble.* 

Early in the year 1 647, he felt an impression of 
duty to travel into Derbyshire and some parts of the 
counties of Leicester and Nottingham. He met 
with some serious friendly people, of tender spirits, 
among whom he "had some meetings and discourses." 
But his mental exercises still continued. " I fasted 
much," says he, "and walked abroad in solitary 
places many days, and often took my Bible and went 



*"Not the place, but the congregation of the elect, I call a church.'* 
Clement of Alexandria, Stromal, vii. 715 B. 



1647.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 25 

and sat in hollow trees and lonesome places till night 
came on; and frequently, in the night, walked mourn- 
fully about by myself; for I was a man of sorrows, 
in the times of the first workings of the Lord in me." 
During all this time he kept himself much as a 
stranger, " seeking heavenly wisdom and getting 
knowledge from the Lord; and was brought off from 
outward things, to rely wholly on the Lord alone." 
He was here instructed that Christ Jesus was he 
who could speak effectually to his condition. He 
was made a partaker also, at times, notwithstanding 
his deep and long-continued provings, of that joy and 
peace, which is peculiarly the Christian's portion ; in 
which he could exclaim : " Thou killest and makest 
alive ; all honour and glory be to thee, O Lord of 
glory !" Thus his desires after the Lord grew 
stronger, and zeal in the pure knowledge and love 
of God, which surpasses all the knowledge that men 
have in the natural state, or can obtain by history or 
books. And being by these deep baptisms weaned 
from all confidence in his own powers, his mind be- 
came more and more divinely enlightened to under- 
stand the mysteries of the Holy Scriptures, many 
deep things therein being clearly opened to him ; as 
well as the dark state of the professors of religion 
generally, who could talk greatly of Christ and of his 
blood, and yet knew it not in their own experience, 
but trampled upon it in their airy notions, and fed 
upon the words of man's own wisdom, or such as 
they had stolen out of the Scriptures of Truth. 

During this year (1647) his mouth appears to have 
been first opened of the Lord in gospel ministry. 
Several persons in the parts where he travelled were 
convinced of the truth, and united with him in the 
bonds of the Gospel. And in the year following they 
began to have great meetings of the people, and a 
mighty power and work of God there was among 
them, to the astonishment of both people and priests. 
At this time he was an example of silence, en- 

3* 



26 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1647. 

deavouring to bring people from self-performances ; 
testifying of, and turning them to the light of Christ 
within them, and encouraging them to wait in pa- 
tience, and to feel the power of it to stir in their 
hearts, that their knowledge and worship of God 
might stand in the power of an endless life, which 
was to be found in the light, as it was obeyed in the 
manifestation of it in man He was led to see clearly, 
and to open to those who heard him discourse, these 
three great practical truths ; that all men are called 
and may be enabled to be perfect, or free from the 
power as well as guilt of sin — that none can under- 
stand the Scriptures aright, without the assistance of 
the same Spirit by which they were written — and 
that every man is enlightened by the divine Light of 
Christ, which would lead all to salvation if its mani- 
festations were humbly and faithfully obeyed. And 
when he observed drowsiness upon the people when 
they ought to have been watching unto prayer and 
looking to the Lord, he told them " they must come 
to witness death to that sleepy, heavy nature, and a 
cross to it in the power of God, that their minds and 
hearts might be on things above. 

He now received an intimation from the Lord that 
he was to go forth more publicly into the world at 
large, to preach the Word of life, which he had re- 
ceived ; and it may be well to hear his own account 
of the nature of his Christian ministry. 

" I was sent," he says, " to turn people from dark- 
ness to light, that they might receive Christ Jesus. — I 
was to direct people to the Spirit, that gave forth the 
Scriptures, by which they might be led into all truth, 
and so up to Christ and God, as they had been who 
gave them forth. I was to turn them to the grace of 
God, and to the truth in the heart, which came by 
Jesus. — I saw that Christ died for all men, and was a 
propitiation for all, and enlightened all men and 
women by his divine and saving light, and that none 
could be a true believer but who believed in it. — 



1647.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 27 

With and by this divine power and Spirit of God, 
and the light of Jesus, I was to bring people off from 
all their own ways, to Christ the new and living way ; 
and from their churches, which men had made and 
gathered, to the church in God, the general assembly 
written in heaven, which Christ is the head of; and 
off from the world's teachers, made by men, to learn 
of Christ, who is the way, the truth, and the life ; of 
whom the Father said, « This is my beloved Son, hear 
ye Him ;' and off from all the world's worships, to 
know the Spirit of Truth in the inward parts, and to 
be led thereby ; that in it they might worship the 
Father of spirits, who seeks such to worship him. — 
And I was to bring people off from all the world's 
religions, which are v r ain ; that they might know the 
pure religion, migj^t visit the fatherless, the widows, 
and the strangers, and keep themselves from the spots 
of the world. — I was to bring them off from all the 
world's fellowships, and prayings, and singings, which 
stood in forms without power ; that their fellowship 
might be in the Holy Ghost, and in the eternal Spirit 
of God ; that they might pray in the Holy Ghost, and 
sing in the spirit and with the grace that comes by 
Jesus ; making melody in their hearts to the Lord, 
who hath sent his beloved Son to be their Saviour, 
and caused his heavenly sun to shine upon all the 
world. I was to bring people off from Jewish cere- 
monies, and from heathenish fables, and from men's 
inventions and worldly doctrines — with their schools 
and colleges for making ministers of Christ, who are 
indeed ministers of their own making, but not of 
Christ's ; and from all their images and crosses, and 
sprinkling of infants, with all their holy days (so called) 
and all their vain traditions which they had gotten up 
since the apostles' days, which the Lord's power was 
against ; in the dread and authority of which, I w^as 
moved to declare against them all, and against all 
that preached and not freely, as being such as had 
not received freely from Christ. 



28 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1649. 

" Moreover, when the Lord sent me forth into the 
world, he forbade me to put off my hat to any, 
high or low ; and I was required to thee and thou all 
men and women, without any respect to rich or poor, 
great or small. And as I travelled up and down, I 
was not to bid people Good morrow, or Good even- 
ing ; neither might I bow or scrape with my leg to 
any one. And this made the sects and professors to 
rage. But the Lord's power carried me over all, to 
his glory, and many came to be turned to God in a 
little time ; for the heavenly day of the Lord sprung 
from on high, and broke forth apace, by the light of 
which, many came to see where they were." 

These two last mentioned testimonies against the 
pride of man could not be tolerated by those who 
loved to " receive honour one of another, but sought 
not the honour that cometh from God only." It put 
the priests, magistrates and other high professing 
people in a great rage, when they found themselves 
addressed in the same simple style which was used to 
those whom they disdained as their inferiors. They 
considered not that this was consistent with Holy 
Scripture, and even with the rules of grammar taught 
in their schools ; but they soon proceeded to inflame 
the passions of the people against George Fox and his 
uncompromising fellow believers, and subjected them 
to great sufferings from the violence of unrestrained 
and wicked men. 

He was also led to exhort all men to justice in deal- 
ing, and teachers and parents in particular to a reli- 
gious care to bring up children in the fear of the 
Lord, and guard them from that which would encour- 
age lightness and vanity. Tavern keepers he cau- 
tioned against supplying people with liquor to their 
hurt; judges were exhorted to just decisions ; and all 
were warned against plays, shows and music, as bur- 
dening the pure life and stirring up the mind to vanity 
and folly. 

In the year 1649, when he was about twenty five 



1650.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 29 

years of age, being at Nottingham on a First-day, he 
felt constrained to go into the public place of worship. 
The priest took for his text the words of Peter ; " We 
have also a more sure word of prophecy, whereunto 
ye do well that ye take heed, as unto a light that 
shineth in a dark place," &c ; and he told the people 
that this referred to the Scriptures. George felt the 
power of the Lord contradicting in his mind the car- 
nal reasoning of the priest, and was made to cry out, 
" Oh no, it is not the Scriptures," and to inform them 
that it was the Holy Spirit, by which the holy men of 
God gave forth the Scriptures, and which w^ould lead 
into all truth : instancing the case of the deluded Jews, 
who possessed the Holy Scriptures, yet not coming to 
the light of the Holy Ghost, but reading them in their 
own spirits, rejected Christ, the bright and morning star, 
and persecuted his apostles and followers. The people 
were greatly enraged at this, and seizing George they 
put him into a filthy prison. He was that night taken 
before the magistrates ; and afterwards the sheriff 
who sent for him to his own home, was so much 
reached by the Lord's convincing power, that he went 
forth into the market place and preached repentance 
to the people in the streets. After remaining in prison 
some time, George Fox was released, and was made 
instrumental at Mansfield Woodhouse, in calming the 
mind of a distracted woman, who afterwards received 
the truth, and continued in it to her death. At the 
same place, he was moved to enter the public meeting- 
house, and declare the truth to the priest and people. 
And though such interruptions and even disputes with 
the ministers were very common in that day of gene- 
ral excitement, and considered as one part of the liberty 
claimed by those who protested against the supersti- 
tions of the Romish priests, yet the doctrines which 
George Fox preached were so unpalatable, that they 
fell upon him in a rage, struck him down, and almost, 
stifled him ; and he was cruelly bruised with their 
hands, their sticks, and even with their bibles. He 



30 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1650. 

was then put into the stocks, kept there some hours, 
and after being threatened with whipping, was at 
length set at liberty. Some however were that day- 
convinced of the truth, to the rejoicing of his heart. 

The next year, 1650, being at Derby, at a time 
when there was a great lecture preached, he was led 
to make some communication to the people at the 
close. They heard him pretty quietly, but an officer 
soon came and took him before Justice Bennet, and 
other magistrates of the town. George Fox spoke 
boldly for the truth, exhorting them to look unto Christ 
within them, as the great sanctifier, and not to man ; 
and bidding them in the words of Holy Scripture, to 
tremble at the word of the Lord. Justice Bennet, at 
this, derided him and his fellow believers, calling them 
Quakers ; a designation which has ever since been 
used by the world to distinguish us from other pro- 
fessors of religion. These justices were exceedingly 
puzzled to know what to do with George, but after 
spending about eight hours in examining him, and 
disputing among themselves, they committed him to 
the house of correction or common jail, for six months. 
Being thus kept in confinement, he did not forget those 
who had been reached through his ministry, and 
brought by the convincing power of God to a like 
precious faith ; but addressed several epistles to them 
to confirm them in faithfulness, and remind them that 
it was Christ Jesus, inwardly revealed, on whom 
strength was laid, and to him they must look to ena- 
ble them to persevere to the end. He also wrote 
several letters of solemn warning to the magistrates 
and priests of Derby, who had committed him. The 
time of his commitment at length being nearly expired, 
he w 7 as brought before a body of soldiers in the market 
place, and desired to accept the station of captain in the 
army of the commonwealth against King Charles the 
First. But when it was found that he could not be 
brought over to their purposes, they remanded him to 
prison, and kept him nearly six months longer in a filthy 



1651.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 31 

dungeon, without any bed, and among about thirty 
felons. He was preserved however, in great patience, 
and many occurrences evinced from time to time the 
strengthening and enlivening presence of the Lord 
with his tried servant. After a while he was again 
strongly urged to join the army, and his continued 
refusal was the occasion of still closer confinement. 
His persecutors at length became uneasy among 
themselves, and set him at liberty after an imprison- 
ment of nearly one year. After his liberation from the 
dungeon of Derby prison, he continued to travel 
abroad in the ministry of the gospel, holding numerous 
meetings, and being instrumental to the gathering of 
many sincere souls into the fold of Christ. Many of 
these afterwards became eminent fellow labourers 
with him in the cause of pure Christianity, and the 
process of gradual convincement of some of them 
evinced in a remarkable manner, the immediate ope- 
rations of that divine Spirit which was promised by 
the Saviour of men, to lead into all truth. 



CHAPTER III. 



AN ACCOUNT OF SOME OF THE DOCTRINES AND TESTIMONIES 
PROMULGATED BY THE FOUNDERS OF THE SOCIETY OF 
FRIENDS. 

Although it would be foreign to the object of this 
work, to develope at much length the Christian doc- 
trines held by George Fox and his fellow-labourers, 
yet a short insight into some important principles 
most surely believed by them, may be necessary to 
enable us to pursue their history with a clear concep- 
tion of their real character as advocates of the Truth 
in Christ. 

They never hesitated to declare their belief in "the 



32 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF 

three that bear record in Heaven"— that there is one 
God and Father of all, of whom are all things, — one 
Lord Jesus Christ, by whom all things were made, 
who was glorified with the Father before the world 
began, who is God over all, blessed for ever — and one 
Holy Spirit, the promise of the Father and the Son, 
the Leader and sanctifier and comforter of his people 
— and that these three are One, as the Holy Scrip- 
tures declare. 

They believed that the one only wise, omnipotent 
and everlasting God was the Creator of all things, 
and is the preserver of all that he hath made. And 
they owned and truly believed that Jesus Christ was 
his beloved and only begotten Son, conceived by the 
Holy Ghost, and born of the virgin Mary — in whom 
we have redemption through his blood, even the for- 
giveness of sins — that he is the express image of the 
invisible God, the first born of every creature — by and 
for whom all things in heaven and in earth were cre- 
ated — that he offered himself without spot unto God, 
a sacrifice for sin, and tasted death for every man, 
being crucified for us in the flesh, without the gates of 
Jerusalem — that he rose again the third day for our 
justification, ascended into Heaven, and now sitteth 
at the right hand of God; being made the propitiation 
for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins 
of the whole world. They rejoicingly believed in 
Him as their Redeemer and Saviour, the Captain of 
their salvation, their Mediator with the Father, and 
the author and finisher of their faith — their wisdom, 
righteousness, justification and redemption — the Shep- 
herd and Bishop of their souls — and sincerely ac- 
knowledged that there is no other name under heaven 
given among men, whereby we must be saved. 

The doctrine of immediate divine revelation, which 
had been lost sight of in the apostacy, was revived 
and abundantly preached by them as the glory and 
life of the gospel dispensation. While other profes- 
sors, too generally, were resting in a bare belief of 



THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 33 

what Christ had done for them, without them, and in 
a literal knowledge of the Holy Scriptures, these con- 
verted and regenerated witnesses for the truth as it is 
in Jesus, were made partakers of that faith which is 
produced by the testimony of the Spirit of Christ in 
the heart ; by which they not only received Him as 
their Redeemer an3 Saviour, in what he graciously 
did and suffered in the flesh, as the propitiation for 
sin, and as their mediator and intercessor ; but like- 
wise in his inward and spiritual appearance, to baptise 
and sanctify them ; so as to prepare their souls to par- 
take of the fulness of the blessings which the Gospel 
confers. 

Concerning the Holy Scriptures, they believed that 
they were given forth by the Holy Spirit of God, 
through the holy men of God, who spake as they 
were moved by the Holy Ghost. They believed that 
these blessed writings are to be read, believed, and 
fulfilled (he that fulfils them is Christ) ; and that they 
" are profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correc- 
tion, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of 
God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all 
good works" — and that they " are able to make wise 
unto salvation, through faith which is in Christ Jesus." 

They believed that the testimony of the Spirit is 
that alone by which the true knowledge of God, or 
of the Holy Scriptures, can be revealed — that the 
revelations of the Spirit in the heart are the great 
guide of life, by which true Christians are to be im- 
mediately led and governed ; and that these revela- 
tions can never contradict, or lead men to slight or 
lightly esteem the testimony of Holy Scripture, 
which proceeded from the same Spirit in holy men 
of old. 

Hence they also believed, that faith is not a natural 
faculty of the human mind, to be exercised according 
to man's will ; and that there can be no effectual 
faith, but that which is produced by the immediate 
operation of the Holy Spirit in the heart, inclining 

4 



34 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP 

and enabling us to believe what it reveals to us there, 
as well as those things which are recorded in the 
Scriptures. 

They plainly declared their conviction, a convic- 
tion amply confirmed by what they knew of their 
own hearts, that man, who was created in the image 
of God, fell by transgression from this blessed state, 
and lost the heavenly image ; so that all men are by 
nature fallen, degenerated and dead to the divine life, 
and subject to the power of sin; though not punishable 
for Adam's sin, until they make it their own by actual 
transgression. But they further declared the all- con- 
soling truth, that God, who of his infinite love sent 
his Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, into the world, who 
tasted death for every man, hath given to every man, 
Jew or Gentile, Barbarian, Scythian, bond or free, 
of whatsoever nation or place, a certain day or time 
of visitation by the light of His Holy Spirit in the 
heart, during which it is possible for him to be saved 
and to partake of the benefits of Christ's death — that 
these visitations of divine Grace draw men to God, 
convict for sin, baptize into a death of the first and 
carnal nature, and if received and co-operated with, 
work the salvation of all, even of those who are ig- 
norant of the history of Adam's fall, and of the death 
and sufferings of Christ. 

While they fully believed that remission of sin and 
reconciliation with God is obtained only through 
Christ and his most satisfactory offering, they were 
also convinced that no man was justified while he 
continued in sin, whatever might be his profession of 
faith. They preached the indispensable necessity of 
holiness, without which the Scriptures declare that no 
man shall see the Lord ; and they placed justification 
where the apostle places it, in connexion with being 
washed and sanctified, but not as preceding sanctih- 
cation. They believed that this sanctification is pro- 
duced by the mighty work of Christ within us, where- 
by the power, nature, and habits of sin are destroyed ; 



THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 35 

that men truly repenting and believing, are, by the 
propitiatory sacrifice of Christ without us, through 
the mercy of God, justified from the imputation of 
sins that are past ; and that all this is effected, not by 
a bare act of faith separate from obedience, but in 
the obedience of faith; Christ being the author of eter- 
nal salvation to none but those that obey him. 

This brought them to that great doctrine, that all 
mankind are called to perfection, and offered the at- 
tainment, through perfect obedience, of a state of free- 
dom from sin even in this life, though not from a lia- 
bility to fall again, through unwatchfulness, under the 
power of temptation. And this doctrine of perfection 
was a groundwork for their uncompromising integ- 
rity, and strict attention to what many termed little 
things, but which were essential to their character as 
truly faithful Christians, because required by the man- 
ifestations of the divine light of Christ in their con- 
sciences. 

Christian baptism they held to be, not the washing 
of the body with water — "the putting away the filth 
of the flesh" — but the powerful work of the Holy 
Spirit in the hearts of all who submit thereto, refining 
them from the pollution of sin, winnowing away the 
transgressing nature, and preparing the soul for being 
gathered into the heavenly garner, as grain separated 
from the chaff. 

In like manner they believed, that the communion 
of the body and blood of Christ, is not the partaking 
of outward bread and wine ; but is inward and spirit- 
ual — a real participation of His divine nature in mea- 
sure, through faith in Him, and obedience to his Spirit 
in the heart ; by which participation the inward man 
is daily nourished, strengthened, and kept alive unto 
God. 

Acceptable worship, they often testified, could not 
be offered, but through the assistance of the Spirit of 
Christ, our mediator, by whom only we can approach 
unto God ; and that in order to experience this neces- 



36 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF 

sary qualification, it is our duty to have the mind with- 
drawn from all outward objects, and engaged in rever- 
ently and humbly waiting upon the Lord in the silence 
of all flesh ; that He may be pleased, through the 
revelation of his Spirit, to give us a true sense of our 
needs, and a knowledge of his will, and enable us to 
offer a sacrifice well pleasing in his sight ; whether it 
be in silent mental adoration, the secret breathing of 
the soul to him, in the ministry of the gospel, or vocal 
prayer and thanksgiving. 

They were brought off, by the spirit of meekness 
and long suffering which characterises true Christian- 
ity, from all wars and fightings, and from that mind 
which promotes the warlike disposition ; being enabled 
to see their entire inconsistency with the gospel of the 
Prince of peace, and that their origin was, as said 
the apostle James, in those " lusts which war against 
the soul." Thus they could never take up arms, even 
though, like the primitive Christians, they should suf- 
fer the loss of liberty, property and life, for their faith- 
ful adherence to the injunction of the Saviour, "Love 
your enemies ; do good to them w 7 hich hate you ; 
and pray for them that de spitefully use you and per- 
secute you." 

Nor did they dare to reason away the plain prohi- 
bition of our Lord : — " Swear not at all, but let your 
communication be yea, yea, nay, nay ; for whatsoever 
is more than these, cometh of evil." And this testi- 
mony was the occasion of abundant suffering from 
the powers of this world. 

These were the fundamental doctrines of the Society 
which the Lord was now gathering into a visible 
church, under the instrumentality of George Fox and 
his fellow labourers. Other views which sprang from 
these as a branch from the parent stem, may be gath- 
ered in perusing the ensuing pages. But one of these 
branches, connected as it is, with that purity of lan- 
guage which the Gospel was to restore to the believ- 
ers, it may be well in this place to develope in some 



THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 37 

degree of detail. It is the heathen origin of the com- 
mon names of months and days, which crept into use 
among professing Christians, along with other cor- 
ruptions, and which Friends saw plainly to be a relic 
of a false religion, and inconsistent with the Holy 
Scriptures. 

" And in all things that I have said unto you, be 
circumspect ; and make no mention of the names of 
other gods ; neither let it be heard out of thy mouth.'* 
Exodus, xxiii. 13. 

" For then will I turn to the people a pure lan- 
guage." Zephaniah, iii. 9. 

These heathen names maybe thus explained. 

January — This name was derived from Janus, an 
ancient king of Italy, whom heathen superstition had 
deified; to whom a temple was erected in Rome, and 
the month so called was dedicated to his image. 

February — was so called from Februa, a word 
denoting purgation by sacrifice; it being usual in 
this month, for the priests of the heathen idol Pan, to 
offer sacrifices, and to perform certain rites, supposed 
to conduce to the cleansing or purgation of the people, 

March — was so denominated from Mars, the pre- 
tended god of war, whom Romulus, the founder of 
Rome, assumed to be his father. 

April — is said to have derived its name from the 
Greek appellation of Venus, ('A^»,) an imaginary god- 
dess worshipped by the Romans in this month, who 
was pretended to have sprung from the foam ('*£>£««) 
of the sea. 

May — The month so called is said to have derived 
its name from Maia, the mother of Mercury, another 
pretended heathen deity, whom the Romans worship- 
ped in this month. 

June — So named from Juno, another supposed god- 
dess of the Romans. 

July — was so called from the great Roman warrior 
Julius Caesar, who gave his own name to this month, 

4# 



38 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF 

instead of its former name of Quintilis, or the fifth. 
He was deified by his superstitious admirers. 

August — so named in honour of his successor, the 
Emperor Augustus. This month was previously- 
called Sextilis, or the sixth. He also was deified, 
and called " the Divine Augustus." 

The remaining four months, called September, 
(meaning Seventh,) October, (Eighth,) November, 
(Ninth,) and December, (Tenth,) were very properly 
so called until the alteration of the Calendar adopted 
in England in the year 1752 ; by which what is called 
the New Style came into use, so that those four months 
have ever since been, not what their Latin names 
indicate, but the Ninth, Tenth, Eleventh and Twelfth ; 
so that it is no longer consistent with that truth in- 
cumbent on all Christians, to designate these months 
by those names. There can be little doubt that the 
numerical mode of naming the months is the most 
ancient, as it is unquestionably the most plain, simple 
and rational. 

The Days of the Week were also called, by our 
idolatrous Saxon ancestors, after the names of the 
idols or other objects which they worshipped on the 
respective days. Thus, 

The First day of the week was by them called 
Sunday, from their customary adoration of the Sun on 
that day. 

The Second day they called Monday, from their 
custom of worshipping the Moon on that day. 

The Third day, Tuesday, in honour of one of their 
idols called Tuisco. 

The Fourth day, Wednesday, from Woden, another 
of their idols. 

The Fifth day was called Thursday, from the name 
of an idol called Thor, worshipped on that day. 

The Sixth day was called Friday, from Friga, an 
imaginary goddess worshipped by them. 

The Seventh day, they styled Saturday, from Saturn 
or Seater, another imaginary deity. 






THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 39 

The candid mind, on a consideration of the above, 
must acknowledge that the continued use of these 
names involved an acknowledgment or sanction of the 
gross idolatry of the heathen, contrary to the express 
command of Scripture, that " the names of the idols 
should no more be heard." 

And these were not all the corruptions introduced 
in reference to the names of days and times. For 
when the profession of the Christian religion became 
national in the Roman empire, multitudes of heathen 
priests, who saw their present craft in danger, em- 
braced the profession of Christianity from selfish 
views, and laboured with too much success to find 
employment by imposing on the people a new set of 
ceremonies and. sacrifices, bearing some resemblance 
to those to which in their state of heathenism they 
had been accustomed. From this corrupt source 
sprang the Popish sacrifice of the Mass, the celebra- 
tion of which at particular times, (some of them in 
connexion with the worship of saints) gave rise to the 
names of Michaelmas, Martinmas, Christmas, and the 
like. 

Another division of the testimony of Friends to a 
pure and simple language, resulted from the conviction 
that strict truth must be invariably maintained by the 
Christian, and that he is not at liberty to flatter the 
natural pride of his fellow-men. They perceived that 
pride and fashion had introduced the practice of ad- 
dressing a single individual by the word " you," as if 
he were two or more ; and when they could no longer 
thus depart from the pure language of Holy Scripture, 
they found to their cost, by the sufferings which they 
underwent on its account, that this pride of the human 
heart was greatly roused at the idea of being address- 
ed in the same manner as was customary towards 
those who were considered as inferiors. This con- 
firmed them in the belief that the custom was corrupt 
in its origin ; and they steadily persevered, through 
much persecution, in adherence to the Scripture ex- 



40 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1651. 

ample of " thou" or " thee" to a single individual, 
however exalted in station or character. 

The same fear of fostering the pride of man led them 
to discard the use of the common modes of salutation, 
some of which implied what was often absolutely 
false. Thus, the terms " Master" or " Mister" and 
"Mistress," theycouldnot conscientiously make use of, 
towards persons who stood not in that relation to 
them ; nor could they dare to offer the appearance of 
an approach to man-worship, which was involved in 
the customary practice of bowing and courtesying, 
and taking oft' the hat ; though this was a supposed 
honour which stuck very close to the worldly heart, 
and for faithfully testifying against which, Friends 
often endured most grievous sufferings. 



CHAPTER IV. 



CONVINCEMENT OF WILLIAM DEWSBURY AND EDWARD BUR- 
ROUGH. 

One of the most eminent instruments among those 
who united with George Fox in 1651, was William 
Dewsbury. He was born at Allerthorpe in Yorkshire, 
early in the seventeenth century, of religious parents, 
who were doubtless instrumental in cherishing that 
susceptibility of mind, which formed, at an early age, 
a striking feature in his character. When he w T as 
only eight years old, the Lord visited him by his 
Spirit, clearly intimating to the ear of his mind — " I 
created thee for my glor-y^— an account thou must give 
me for all thy words and actions4''_andrliis understand- 
ing was enlightened to perceive that he had lived in 
disobedience to the Lord's will. About this period he 
lost his father ; and while lamenting with tears over 
this solemn and affecting event, he heard in the secret 
of his soul what appeared to him a voice, saying : 



1651.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 41 

" Weep for thyself, for thy father is well." So power- 
ful was the effect produced on his mind by this extra- 
ordinary incident, that from that time forward he 
spent many hours, which in childhood are usually 
devoted to play, in prayer and fasting, under a sense 
of his lost and undone condition. As he advanced in 
years, he became increasingly sensible of the corrupt 
propensities of his nature. The condemnation which 
attended him, was that he lived without the true 
knowledge or fear of the Lord his Maker ; though 
there is no reason to apprehend that he exceeded the 
ordinary levity of young persons, or went beyond the 
bounds of what is commonly termed morality. But 
it was gradually given him to see the indispensable 
necessity of a thorough change of heart, and of being 
" born again of incorruptible seed, by the Word of 
God, which liveth and abideth forever." Under these 
powerful impressions, between his eighth and thir- 
teenth years, he endeavoured to alter the course of 
his life. He ceased from what he was now led to 
consider the vain conversation in which he had hith- 
erto lived, and became thoughtful and serious far 
beyond his years. He began to read the Holy Scrip- 
tures and other books on religious subjects from his 
own choice, and was often engaged in mourning and 
prayer before the Almighty, although at that time he 
had received no clear understanding as to how or 
where the Divine Being was to be found — even in the 
heart of man himself, which is declared to be " the 
temple of the Lord." His soul was " athirst for God, 
for the living God ;" and he could exclaim with 
David, " when shall I come and appear before God?" 
It was in vain that he diligently availed himself of 
such opportunities as were afforded, of learning, 
through the public teachers of religion, and other out- 
ward means, what he was thus anxious to know and 
enjoy in himself. The outward and carnal views of 
that class of persons were not calculated to satisfy 
his searching spirit ; and he found that such a know- 



42 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1651. 

ledge of the Father and of the Son, as is life eternal, 
was not to be attained through those physicians of no 
value. All his own endeavours also, made in his own 
strength and will, to render himself acceptable to 
God, were equally fruitless ; and thus was he brought 
in entire prostration to the foot of the cross, feeling 
his need of Christ the Saviour, and that without him 
his soul could not live. 

Until the thirteenth year of his age, his chief occu- 
pation was that of a shepherd's boy, the retirement of 
which was very congenial to his feelings. But soon 
after this, he was placed apprentice to a cloth- weaver 
near Leeds, wishing to have more frequent opportu- 
nities of intimate association with a people, whom he 
believed to have attained to a more advanced state of 
religious purity, than that to which he had been accus- 
tomed. But though he attended assiduously at their 
places of w r orship, and discoursed frequently with 
them on the subject of his anxiety, yet he found 
himself greatly disappointed, and met with no rest 
nor peace to his weary soul, " in that worship of 
God w T hich the w r orld had set up." He was told by 
his associates that the bread and wine which they 
called the Sacrament of the Supper, were the seals of 
the covenant ; but when he received them, he found 
nothing sealed to his soul therewith. The emptiness 
of this ceremony was at length shown to him, and he 
was instructed that " the seal of the covenant w T as the 
Spirit of Christ, and no outward element ; and that 
the Supper was the body and blood of Christ, which 
the world doth not know." 

About the time that he attained the age of twenty-one 
years, the civil wars broke out in England, which result- 
ed in the death of King Charles the First. William, 
in common with many ardent and well meaning per- 
sons, fell into a snare which the enemy of all right- 
eousness, who was a murderer from the beginning, 
laid for them, through the plausible reasoning of some 
who professed to be ministers of Christ, and who 






1651.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 43 

designated the joining of the army of the Parliament, 
in what was termed a defence of civil and religious 
liberty, as " going up to the help of the Lord against 
the mighty." William Dewsbury was taken with 
this bait, not at that time seeing the inconsistency 
of the sword, for the disciples of the Prince of Peace ; 
and entered into the army, supposing he was fighting 
for the gospel. But in this too he was disappointed. 
At length he was favoured to perceive that in all his 
efforts hitherto, to " find out the Almighty to perfec- 
tion," he had been " seeking the living among the 
dead," and looking out for that which was only to be 
found within ; and that it was in mercy that he had 
been baffled in all these attempts made in his own 
strength and wisdom. " Then," says he, " my mind 
was turned within by the power of the Lord, to wait 
in his counsel, the light in my conscience, to hear 
what the Lord would say. And the word of the Lord 
came to me and said : ' Put up thy sword into the 
scabbard ; if my kingdom were of this world, then 
would my servants fight.' Which word enlightened 
my heart, and discovered the mystery of iniquity ; it 
showed the kingdom of Christ to be within, and that its 
enemies being within and spiritual, my weapons 
against them should also be spiritual, — the power of 
God" 

Favoured with this clear intimation of the Lord's 
will, he put up his weapon into its sheath, left the 
army, and resumed his former occupation of a weaver; 
and waiting on the Lord in the way of his judgments, 
he was brought unreservedly to cast himself upon the 
mercy of God in Christ Jesus, and to yield to His all- 
wise disposal. He was favoured with clear evidence 
that free redemption was laid up for him in the Lord 
Jesus, and that though " the wages of sin is death, yet 
the gift of God is eternal life, through Jesus Christ our 
Lord." And having passed through the fiery bap- 
tisms of the Holy Ghost in the deep provings which 
have been described, he was effectually convinced 



44 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1651. 

that true religious knowledge is not to be acquired.as 
men obtain knowledge in the things of this world, by 
the ordinary cultivation of the mental faculties alone; 
but that we must wait in great self-abasement at the 
feet of Jesus, to receive such an understanding as the 
natural man does not possess, and in which alone 
spiritual things can be rightly comprehended and ap- 
preciated. 

Having thus tasted of the good word of life and of 
the powers of the world to come, William Dewsbury 
began to feel, about the year 1640, a strong engage- 
ment of mind, inclining him to declare to others what 
the Lord had done for his soul, that his fellow crea- 
tures might also be persuaded to seek after a like pre- 
cious experience. But it is remarkable, that though 
he was freely given up in mind to undertake the work 
of a preacher of the gospel, yet the necessary commis- 
sion for undertaking it had not then been given. He 
was commanded by the secret intimations of the Holy 
Spirit, to wait until the year 1652, when, it was pro- 
phetically revealed to his understanding, there would 
be a greater opening in the minds of the people to 
receive the doctrines of spiritual truth. During the 
six years which intervened, he continued principally 
about his own home, and had to pass through various 
conflicts of mind, intended doubtless for the further 
trial of his faith, and for his more full preparation for 
the great work and service to which he was appointed. 
And by the power of the divine Word, he was armed 
with patience to wait in the Lord's counsel, through 
all his trials, until it pleased the Almighty to set him 
free. 

It w r as in the year 1651 that this spiritually-minded 
man first met that great instrument in gathering the 
Society of Friends, George Fox. This occurred 
near Balby in Yorkshire, where George was holding 
meetings, after his liberation from the dungeon at 
Derby. William Dewsbury and his wife (whom he 
had married about two years before,) attended one of 



1651.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIEND3. 45 

these meetings, held at Lieutenant Roper's, at Synder- 
hill Green ; and George Fox relates, that after the 
meeting (it being moonlight) William and Ann Dews- 
bury came to him in the field, and confessed to the 
truth. Doubtless their hearts rejoiced to find that as 
face answereth to face in a glass, so they could read 
the lines of their own experience in what George had 
delivered, and could extend to him the right hand of 
precious fellowship. And in the eighth month of the 
following year, he clearly received the commission 
which had been previously appointed for him, in the 
following secret intimation from the Lord : " The 
leaders of my people cause them to err, in drawing 
them from the light in their consciences. — Freely thou 
hast received, freely give and minister ; and what I 
have made known to thee in secret, declare thou 
openly." The power of which message constrained 
him to leave his family, and to run to and fro, to 
declare to souls where their Teacher is, even the 
Light of Christ in their consciences, as the Lord had 
made manifest to his own soul. His first journey on 
this account was into Westmoreland, Cumberland 
and Lancashire, where he was subjected to severe 
sufferings for the truth's sake, being beaten almost to 
death, by a mob, for speaking in one of the public places 
of worship. 

Soon after this, being at Sedberg, in Yorkshire, on 
a market day, he was constrained to preach the Gos- 
pel at the market cross, and to warn the people to 
turn from the error of their ways, to the grace of 
God and the light in their own consciences. He was 
hereupon again beset by a concourse of rude persons, 
who endeavoured violently to push him down. Set- 
ting their backs against the high stone cross, which 
was in a tottering condition, and their hands against 
this faithful man, they threw down the cross with the 
force exerted, and broke it on the ground. Jt was 
remarkable that no one was injured by the accident, 
as the people were thickly collected, around him. 

5 



46 HIBTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1652. 

He was afterwards imprisoned at York, having 
been pursued during his peaceful labours in the gos- 
pel, twice attacked by a constable with an iron fork, 
and violently urged along the street of the small town 
where he was apprehended at night, his captors rudely 
shouting as they went from one tavern to another. 
He was now brought to trial, but at the conclusion of 
the assizes was cleared by proclamation, and set at 
liberty. He was however, about a month afterwards, 
again seized, as he was preaching to the inhabitants 
of Derby, and immured once more within the walls 
of a prison ; and this unchristian treatment became 
in after life, his very frequent experience. 

Other faithful men were alike prepared, under the 
Lord's own forming hand, for the reception and right 
appreciation of the truths preached by George Fox 
and his friends. 

Edward Burrough was born in the barony of Ken- 
dal in the county of Westmoreland, England, about 
the year 1035. His parents had the reputation of 
honest and upright persons, and brought up their son 
with as good an education as the neighbourhood 
afforded. He was a boy of very good understanding, 
and of knowledge far beyond his years. His intimate 
friend Francis Howgill testifies of him, that " he had 
the spirit of a man when he was but a child. I may 
say, gray hairs were upon him when he was but a 
youth, for he was clothed with wisdom in his infancy. 
He was inclinable from his youth upwards, to religion 
— always accompanied the best men, who walked in 
godliness and honesty — was never known to be ad- 
dicted to any vice or bad behaviour — but feared the 
Lord, and walked uprightly according to the light and 
knowledge received. In his natural disposition, he 
was bold and manly, dexterous and fervent, and what 
he took in hand, he did with his might; loving, kind 
and courteous, merciful and flexible, and easy to be 
intreated. His delight was always among good 



1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 47 

people, and to be reading the Scriptures, and his very 
strength was bent towards God." 

This was his character among his associates. But 
he himself, under a sense of his deficiencies, says that 
he was wanton and light, and lived in pleasure, with- 
out the fear of God, or knowledge of Him but by 
hearsay or tradition. When, however, he grew up 
towards twelve years of age, something stirred within 
him, and showed him that there was a higher religion 
than that which he was exercised in. He then en- 
quired after the Presbyterians, under the idea that 
they were nearer the truth than what he had known ; 
and would go several miles on a First-day to hear 
the best of their preachers. As he grew into favour 
with them, he left off some of his lightness and vanity ; 
but instead of it, spiritual pride crept in, and he became 
puffed up in some degree with his attainments. It 
pleased the Lord, however, in mercy, not to let him 
rest here ; but he was struck as with a terror by the 
convicting power of Divine Grace; and after his 
exercises in prayer, he often heard this voice speak- 
ing to his soul : " Thou art ignorant of God ; thou 
knowest not where he is, nor what he is : to what 
purpose is thy prayer V f Fear and dread came upon 
him, and he was made to give up even " to the moles 
and to the bats" his formal exercises, performed in his 
own will, and all reliance on his attainments in human 
learning. He lost also his dependence upon the 
preachers, in whom he had so much delighted, and 
was favoured with some experience of joy and peace, 
and of water from the living fountain, to the refresh- 
ment of his soul. But even in this state, the enemy 
of man's happiness was busily intent on spoiling the 
work, and infused into his mind the poisonous leaven 
of self-righteousness and self- activity. " Thus," says 
he, " being ignorant of the Cross of Christ, to keep 
low in it, I ran before my Guide, and grew up into 
notions, to talk of high things ; for it was my delight 
to comprehend in mv busy mind." This was a very 



48 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652. 

dangerous state, of which, at length, in great mercy, 
he was made sensible. " The witness," he says, 
"which lay slain in me, would give me no rest. 
Something which shined deep in me, showed me 
ignorance in all profession, and I was put to a stand 
many times in myself at those things which were 
come to pass.*' About this time, which was about 
the 17th year of his age, he met with George Fox, 
who had much reasoning with him and others, at the 
house of one Miles Bateman, at Underbarrow. Ed- 
ward says, " it pleased the Lord to speak to me by 
him, that I was in the prodigal's state, and above the 
cross of Christ ; not in the pure fear of the Lord, but 
full of corruption and the old nature. I saw myself 
to be in bondage to my own will, and to my own lust, 
and full of airy notions and imaginations. Then 
trouble and distress came upon me, such as I had 
never known ; and I separated from all the glory of 
the world, and from all my acquaintance and kindred, 
and betook myself to the company of a poor despised 
people called Quakers. And now am I one in that 
generation, which is and ever was hated by the world, 
the chief priests and pharisees." Being thus brought 
freely to an acquaintance with that which he had 
long sought in vain among the hireling teachers and 
high professors of what they themselves know not, in 
a short time (even that same year, viz. 1 652,) being 
as George Fox declares, "endued with power from 
on high," he came forth in the work of the ministry, 
and approved himself a faithful labourer therein, 
travelling up and down, and preaching the gospel 
freely. 



1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 49 



CHAPTER V. 

CONVINCEMENT OF THOMAS THOMPSON AND FURTHER. 

TRANSACTIONS OF GEORGE FOX. 

We are not informed who were the parents of this 
individual, nor of the place of his birth, but this is 
supposed to have been in the north of England, and 
probably between the years 1630 and 1640. His 
own account relates, that even when he was very 
young, it pleased the Lord to incline his heart to seek 
after Him, and that when he was about eight years 
old, he was deeply impressed with this language, 
which sounded in his mental ear : " Now is the axe 
laid to the root of the trees ; every tree therefore that 
bringeth not forth good fruit, shall be hewn down and 
cast into the fire." Strong desires were raised in his 
youthful mind, that he might become one of the trees 
bearing good fruit ; and listening to the voice of the 
Lord in his sou., He discovered to him the evil of 
many things practised generally by such as he then 
was, excited in his mind an abhorrence of sin, and 
preserved him from much of the wickedness which 
prevailed around him. For several years he was 
earnestly engaged, both by frequent attendance on 
those who were accounted the most able preachers, 
and by a diligent perusal of the Holy Scriptures, which 
he much loved, to obtain an understanding of the 
things of religion ; but his mind nevertheless was too 
much outward, knowing not the Light of Christ Jesus 
to guide him, and depending unduly on instrumental 
helps. But, alas! as he grew up and increased in 
knowledge, his heart was not kept so near the Lord 
as formerly, nor was his care so great to walk in 
holiness of life before Him ; for he began to take up 
with a false rest, apprehending that all was well with 
him, because he knew much of the Scriptures, and 

*5 



fiO HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652. 

could repeat great part of the sermons and other ex- 
ercises of the priests. These blind leaders of the 
blind also increased his danger by flattering him with 
smooth words, telling him that he was a hopeful 
boy and needed not to doubt that it would be well 
with him. The Lord, however, in great mercy, 
showed him that his soul was still in want, and that 
all was not right with him though he could speak so 
much of God, Christ and faith. Good desires were 
again raised in his mind towards the Lord ; his false 
rest was broken up ; and he hungered for the bread 
of life to satisfy his longing and weary soul. This 
was not however to be found among the hirelings and 
formal professors amongst whom he had been seeking 
the way of truth. He says, " then I went to some 
meetings of the people called Independents ; but 
neither there could I find what my soul wanted, viz. 
the Life of Jesus, which I could not be satisfied with- 
out the enjoyment of. So, being tired out with going 
from one to another, the Lord in his goodness was 
pleased to make known to me that the man-made min- 
isters were not of Him, but were such as ran, and he 
never sent them. Therefore they did not profit the 
people at all, but were Babylonish merchants, which 
made a prey upon the people. And this word sound- 
ed in me : ' Come out from amongst them my people; 
be not partakers with them in their sins, lest ye also 
partake of their plagues.' So in a little time I left 
them, and grew retired in my mind, delighting much 
to be alone, meditating on the things of God, or read- 
ing such books as were published, of the experiences 
of those that had any openings in the way of life. 

" And in the forepart of the year H352, it pleased 
the Lord to order his faithful and valiant servant and 
messenger, dear George Fox, into these parts ; but I 
had not then opportunity to see him, though I greatly 
desired it. But some of my familiars that were with 
him, gave me an account of his manner of life, and 
also of his doctrine. They told me, that in his beha- 



1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 51 

viour he was very reserved, not using any needless 
words or discourses that tended not to edification, 
and that he used not respect of persons ; very tempe- 
rate in his eating and drinking ; his apparel homely, 
yet decent ; and as for his doctrine, he directed people 
to the light of Christ in their consciences, to guide 
them to God. 

" At the hearing of these things, though at second 
hand, the Lord was pleased mightily to work upon my 
mind, and brought me to a wonderful retiredness ; and 
my mind was truly turned inward to wait on him and 
desire his teachings. So by degrees, the Lord mani- 
festing one thing after another, by the working and 
power of God, self came to be denied, and I was, in 
many things humbled to the cross ; so that several of 
my neighbours and acquaintances marvelled to see 
me so changed, and some said I would be distracted. 
But their words were little to me ; for as I obeyed the 
Lord, I found peace and satisfaction, and the return 
of God's love into my bosom. And as I gave up any 
thing for truth's sake, I found peace, and more strength 
was given me ; so that I can truly say, it is good to 
keep in the counsel of God, and to give up wholly to 
serve him ; for he is good to them that trust in him ; 
and they that faithfully serve him shall in nowise lose 
their reward. 

" After I had for some time been thus inwardly 
exercised in the things of God, and the work of the 
Lord prospered in my inward parts, this word arose 
in me : ' Have not the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ 
with respect of persons.' And it was upon me to 
bear my testimony for God, in speaking the plain, 
simple, and I may say, pure language of Thee and 
Thou to every particular person, of what degree or 
quality soever. But the enemy prevailed with me to 
resist the motion of the Spirit of Life ; and so a veil 
came over my heart, and the pure principle which jus- 
tified me while I was faithful to God, did now judge 
and condemn me for my disobedience. Yet I per- 



52 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652. 

sisting in it, stopped the work of God ; and the enemy 
who had thus prevailed upon me, laid other baits and 
snares to catch my feet in, and drew me again into 
some of the pleasures of this fading world, which I 
had once denied myself of. But great is the mercy 
and compassion of the Lord, who suffered me not 
long to rest in that carnal security, but was pleased in 
his infinite love to discover to me my loss, and raised 
desires in me to be where I had once been, in my 
way towards Zion. But the enemy had got such 
strength through my disobedience, that I found it 
more difficult again to get into the way, than could 
well be thought of by any that had never gone out 
thereof. Let all take warning not to give way to the 
enemy, nor resist the motion of God's Spirit while it 
strives, neither ' despise the day of small things,' lest 
ye fall into temptations, and anguish and sorrow come 
upon you." 

He proceeds to relate that about midsummer of the 
year 1652, he heard of a people raised up that were 
called Quakers ; which was the first time that he had 
heard of that name being given to any people. De- 
sires were raised in his mind to be acquainted with 
some of them, and accordingly in the Eighth month, 
hearing that William Dewsbury and some other 
Friends were come to Frodingham, he gladly em- 
braced the opportunity to go and see them. " And 
I," says he, " being on my master's work, at Brig- 
ham, could not go in the day, but determined to go in 
the night, and would gladly have had some of my 
acquaintance to have gone with me. But the night 
being very dark, none would go ; so I went alone. 
And coming into the room where William was, I 
found him writing ; and the rest of his company were 
sitting in great silence, seeming to be much retired in 
mind, and fixed towards God. Their countenances, 
grave and solid withal, preached to me, and confirmed 
what I had before believed, that they were the people 
of the Lord. After a little time, William ceased 



1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 53 

writing, and many of the town's-people coming in, 
he began in the power and wisdom of God to declare 
the truth. And oh ! how was my soul refreshed, and 
the witness for God reached in my heart ; I cannot 
express it with pen : I had never heard nor felt the 
like before ; so that if all the world said, nay, I could 
have given my testimony, that it was the everlasting 
truth of God. And in the same month, my mouth 
was livingly opened, to declare the name of the Lord, 
and preach repentance to the people. I knew a bri- 
dle to my tongue, and was greatly afraid lest I should 
offend the Lord in thought, word, or deed ; and the 
word of the Lord was in me, * Thou shalt not do thy 
own works, nor think thy own thoughts, nor speak 
thy own words, on this my holy day.' And though I 
suffered and went through many exercises, yet the 
Lord bore up my spirit and carried me on, while I 
abode faithful to him, to the praise of his own name." 

" My mouth was often opened in the congregations 
of his people, to praise his infinite and worthy name ; 
and I often accompanied William Dewsbury, John 
Whitehead, and sometimes James Nayler, and other 
early ministers, to and fro in the East Riding of York- 
shire ; and the glorious presence of the Lord God 
was richly with us, to the overcoming of our immor- 
tal souls, the comfort of his heritage, and praise of his 
own name." 

Among those who were reached by the testimony of 
George Fox to pure simple Christianity, and to the doc- 
trine of the Light of Christ in the conscience of man as 
his infallible Director, was Justice Hotham, a man of a 
tender spirit, who had some experience of God's 
workings in his heart. He conversed freely with 
George Fox, taking him into his private room ; and 
told him that he had himself been acquainted with this 
Divine teacher for ten years, and was glad that the 
Lord did now publish it abroad to the people. On 
George Fox coming there a second time shortly after- 
wards, Justice Hotham, as he entered his house, 



54 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652. 

took him in his arms in an affectionate manner, 
offered him the free use of his house as if it were his 
own, expressed his exceeding gladness at the work of 
the Lord, and that His power was revealed, and in 
other respects behaved towards him with remarkable 
friendliness. Another justice also, named Robinson, 
received his testimony with great openness, and told 
him it was well that he exercised that gift which 
God had given him. But this was not the manner in 
which he was always received where he had occa- 
sion to sojourn. Soon after this, being denied any 
refreshment by a woman at whose inn he stopped, 
though it was near the end of the Twelfth month, he 
passed the night in a hay-stack, exposed to the rain 
and snow. And a few weeks afterwards, coming 
towards night into a town called Patrington, he 
warned the priest, who was in the street, and the 
people also, to repent and turn to the Lord ; and after 
preaching to those who gathered around him, as it 
grew dark he went to seek a lodging at an inn. 
This was denied him, and he then desired that he 
might be allowed a little meat, or milk, and offered 
to pay them for it ; but this also was refused. So he 
walked out of the towm, followed by a company of 
rude fellows, whom he bid to repent and fear the 
Lord. Coming to two other houses, he was again 
refused either lodging or food. By this time it grew 
so dark that he could not see the road ; but discover- 
ing a ditch, he got a little water and refreshed him- 
self: and being weary with travelling, sat down 
among the furze bushes until day dawned, and then 
passed on. At a small to wn about three miles off, though 
the sun was scarcely up, yet the people set upon him, 
seized him, and violently took him back to Patrington; 
where all the town was in an uproar. At length a 
man more tender than the rest, called him into his 
house, and gave him milk and bread, a welcome 
refreshment, for he had not eaten for some days 
before. The rude people of the town had him before 



1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 55 

a justice several miles distant ; who, however, could 
find nothing against him ; and being set at liberty he 
returned to Patrington, and having an opportunity to 
declare the truth to the people, he was the means of 
convincing a large number, who joined him in reli- 
gious fellowship. The person who had here been 
chiefly instrumental in persecuting him, afterwards 
came and desired his forgiveness. Soon after this, 
being at another town, and again refused a lodging, 
he warned the people to repent, directed them to the 
Light of Christ, and leaving them, once more passed 
the night under a hay-stack. Thus was this dedi- 
cated man, whilst seeking the everlasting welfare of 
his fellow- creatures, persecuted and abused, and de- 
nied even the necessaries of life. But yet a seed was 
sown in many places, which grew and prospered, 
even under the treading down of the oppressive foot 
of man ; and sprang up and bore fruit to the praise 
of the great Husbandman, who had sent his servant 
forth. 

Passing through Yorkshire into Lincolnshire, George 
Fox came to Gainsborough, and found the people 
much excited on account of a Friend having preach- 
ed in the market-place. A man came into the house 
into which George had entered, and falsely told the 
people there assembled that George Fox had declared 
himself to be Christ. This still further enraged them, 
and they were scarcely restrained from laying vio- 
lent hands upon him. But he was moved to get upon 
a table, and with power and authority from on High 
to tell them, that " Christ was in them, except they 
were reprobates ; and that it was Christ the eternal 
power of God that spoke in him — not that he was 
Christ." The people generally were satisfied, except 
this false accuser and some whom he had brought in. 
George Fox called him Judas, and prophetically told 
him that Judas's end would be his : which shortly 
proved true ; for this man, like the betrayer of our 
Lord, went away and hanged himself, and a stake 



56 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652. 

was driven into his grave, as a legal token of his 
self-murder. 

The holy zeal with which this apostle of primitive 
Christianity revived, pursued his way, was not to be 
damped by false accusations, nor his courage by the 
threats of the priests and magistrates. The Lord had 
shown him, he says, that " if but one man or woman 
were raised up by His power, to stand and live in the 
same Spirit that the prophets and apostles were in, 
who gave forth the Scriptures, that man or woman 
should shake all the country in their profession for 
ten miles round ; for people had the Scriptures, but 
were not in that same light, and power, and spirit, 
which they were in that gave forth the Scriptures.' , 
He exhorted his fellow men wherever he went, to press 
after this attainment, instead of leaving them satisfied, 
as the time-serving priests did, with reaching half way 
to the kingdom of purity and peace. He earnestly 
insisted on the important practical truth, not only that 
we must aim at complete freedom from sin, even in 
this life, but that it was possible to attain to it, through 
obedience to the manifestations of the Light of Christ 
in the secret recesses of the heart. 

He was often led to point out the difference, be- 
tween a pretended high value of the Holy Scriptures, 
and a sincere endeavour to live in the spirit which 
they inculcate. He declared also, in opposition to 
the favourite opinion, that the Scriptures were to be 
interpreted by the humanly cultivated powers of 
man, " that the Holy Scriptures were given forth by 
the Spirit of God, and all people must first come to 
the Spirit of God in themselves, by which they might 
know God and Christ, of whom the prophets and the 
apostles learned, and by the same spirit know the Holy 
Scriptures ; for as the Spirit of God was in them that 
gave forth the Scriptures, so the same Spirit of God 
must be in all them that come to understand the 
Scriptures." 






1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 57 



CHAPTER VI. 

CONVINCEMENT OF FRANCIS HOWGILL GEORGE WHITE- 
HEAD — AND JUDGE FELL'S FAMILY GEORGE FOX STILL 

PERSECUTED FIRST CONV1NCEMENTS IN LONDON. 

Among the most eminent of those who were con- 
vinced of the truth during this year, and made to sit 
together in heavenly places in Christ, w T ere Francis 
Howgill and George Whitehead, who soon after be- 
came able ministers of the gospel, and the former of 
whom sealed his testimony to the truth by laying 
down his life in prison, for the faith in which he most 
surely believed. 

Francis Howgill was a tender religious man, 
who from conscientious motives had left the Epis- 
copalian society, and attached himself to the In- 
dependents as being less superstitious. Having 
been trained up for a minister by a university 
education, he became a teacher among those whom 
he joined. Yet the strivings of the Spirit of Christ 
were still mercifully extended to him, making 
him dissatisfied with his attainments, and convinc- 
ing him that notwithstanding all his fasting and 
praying, and what were esteemed good works, 
yet the root of sin still remained unsubdued with- 
in him. Although the common doctrine was, that 
Christ had taken the guilt of sin upon himself, yet 
this could not satisfy him, because his conscience 
told him, " his servant thou art, whom thou obey- 
est." But increasing in spiritual understanding, it 
was shown to him, that the Lord, according to an- 
cient prophecy, would in these latter days teach the 
people himself; and it seemed also to him that the 
time when this should be more manifestly the case 
was near at hand. Some time afterwards, on the 
same day in which he had himself been preaching in 

6 



58 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652. 

Firbank Chapel, George Fox preached there in the 
afternoon ; and when he heard him call the attention 
to the Light of Christ in man, as the way to salva- 
tion, he believed this to be the word of truth, and that 
he had been ignorant of the principles of true religion. 
Submitting to the reproofs of this inward Light, 
he saw the unfruitfulness of all his former labour, 
which he had undertaken in his own time and way. 
Anguish and sorrow seized upon him ; and judgment 
came over all his self-righteousness. And being from 
this time given up to serve the Lord, he and John 
Audland, who was convinced at the same time, and 
who had taken pay for preaching, in Lancashire, 
having now received the gospel freely, and the word 
of life from Christ himself, in obedience to the com- 
mand of the Lord, returned the money to the parish 
and people from w T hom they had received it. The 
Son of God came to be more and more revealed in 
him ; he began to know His command, and power- 
fully and freely to preach Him and his word of life ; 
which so enraged the priests and magistrates, that 
within this same year he was seized and locked up in 
a filthy jail at Appleby, and kept there a prisoner for 
some time. 

George Whitehead was born about the year 1636, 
at Sun Bigs, in Westmoreland. He was educated at 
a grammar school in the neighbourhood, and appears 
to have made such progress in his literary pursuits, 
as to have been employed for some time as a teacher. 
His parents had a view of educating him for a min- 
ister ; but his mind was very early in life visited by 
the enlightening influence of divine grace : and being 
drawn into secret inquiries after a knowledge of true 
religion, he was enabled to see how those among 
whom he had been partly educated, came short of 
what they professed and pretended in their worship, 
preaching and praying; so that he felt restrained 
from intimately uniting himself to them, or continuing 
to take part in their ceremonious forms of worship, 






1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 59 

even before he knew any thing of the people called 
Quakers. Nevertheless, the good desires which the 
Lord had raised within him, after repentance unto 
life, were often quenched, and his mind was led away, 
through an airy, light disposition, after music, vain 
mirth, and other follies. Yet the Lord mercifully 
followed him with judgment and reproof in his very 
young years, and renewed his longings after the right 
way. He wanted a true support to his mind, more 
substantial than what he could obtain from the priests 
and professors of religion among whom he had 
walked ; not knowing the Light of Christ, which 
convinced him of sin, and would lead him into the 
paths of righteousness. He was for a time much at 
a loss, earnestly seeking after an experience of true 
religion ; and wandering, as one bewildered, looking 
for this attainment among those whom he supposed 
to be in possession of some higher and more refined 
views respecting spiritual gifts. He was then about 
fourteen years of age. 

After a short time, he heard of some people called 
Quakers, who trembled at the word of God ; and 
observing how they w r ere reviled and reproached by 
wicked and loose people, he was induced to make fur- 
ther inquiry, and was led by the Lord, on whom he 
relied for counsel, to believe that they were His people. 
And he even began to contend for them and their 
principles, so far as he knew them, before he had 
attended any of their meetings, or heard them min- 
ister. 

But finding that they held a meeting at a place in 
the same county where he was born, he went thither, 
and was, by the eminent power of the Lord which 
appeared among them, in contriting their hearts, and 
bringing them into earnest cravings after true repent- 
ance and sanctification of spirit, much confirmed in 
the belief that he must leave the high professing 
but worldly-minded priests, and unite with this 
poor despised people, in sitting down in pure depend- 



60 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1653. 

ence upon the Lord alone, and thus seek ability from 
Him to worship in spirit and in truth. His convince- 
ment took place about the seventeenth year of his 
age. Some time after this, he had an opportunity of 
hearing the powerful ministry of George Fox; when 
he found that it proceeded from life and experience, 
and tended to bring to an inward feeling and sense 
of the life and power of Christ, and the sanctifying 
virtue thereof in the heart. He now saw, that to be 
made wise in the living knowledge of God, he must 
become a fool to that wisdom of his own in which he 
had trusted ; and thus retiring to the grace of God, 
with which he was secretly visited, it pleased the Lord 
to endue him with a gift in the ministry ; and the fol- 
lowing year, being between 17 and 18 years old, he 
went forth on foot in that holy service, to the con- 
vincing of many, and the edification of the church. 

His first journey, as a minister, was into Yorkshire, 
Lincolnshire, Norfolk, and some adjacent counties. 
At Norwich he visited in prison, Richard Hubber- 
thorn, a fellow-labourer in the same glorious gospel, 
who was then confined in an old decayed stone vault 
or hole in the castle wall, for his faithful adherence to 
the truth, and whose testimony and sufferings had been 
made instrumental to the gathering of others in that 
city into the same faith. 

In this neighbourhood, George Whitehead held 
many meetings, and numbers were convinced. Seve- 
ral priests attempted to oppose him, thinking to take 
advantage of his youth; but the Lord gave him suit- 
able replies to their sophistry ; and in the spirit of 
meekness he exposed some of their unsound and un- 
scriptural practices. He had also to contend several 
times against Antinomians and Ranters, who falsely 
asserted the unavoidable continuance of sin in man as 
long as he lived, and pleaded for some corrupt liber- 
ties. These deluded men w T ere greatly struck with 
the baptizing power which accompanied the ministry 
of this youth of eighteen years, in testifying against 



1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 61 

sin and wickedness, the lust of the flesh, the lust of 
the eye, the pride of life, and the love of the world ; 
and being brought into great self abasement and fear, 
they earnestly desired his counsel, and several of them 
became reformed in their lives and convinced of the 
truth. 

Though so young in the service of his divine Mas- 
ter, his ministry in the counties of Norfolk and Suffolk 
was remarkably attended by the convincing baptizing 
power of the Lord. Great numbers joined the Society 
of Friends, and many meetings were soon established. 

Before he was twenty-one years of age, he per- 
formed another journey in Suffolk, accompanied by 
Richard Clayton and John Harwood. In passing 
through the town of Bures, Richard Clayton thought it 
his duty to affix a paper on the door of the public 
worship-house, containing several Scripture texts, to 
show the evil fruits, covetousness and corruption of 
false teachers and leaders. For this, they were all 
three taken up, and Richard Clayton was whipped 
and sent out of the town. George Whitehead and 
John Harwood, though innocent of the infraction of 
any law, after lying more than two months in prison, 
were tried as disturbers of the peace. At the trial 
they were scarcely permitted to speak for themselves, 
the judge himself acting as their accuser, and were 
fined twenty nobles each. Refusing to acknowledge 
any guilt by paying this fine, they were remanded to pris- 
on, where they continued twelve months, and endured 
extreme privations and sufferings. For a consider- 
able time, they, with three other Friends, were im- 
mured among felons, in a low dungeon-like place 
under a market-house, their lodging being on rye- 
straw on a damp, earthen floor. The gaoler was 
much enraged at the Friends, because they testified 
against his wickedness, and would not contribute to 
his habits of extortion from the prisoners, nor encou- 
rage the great drunkenness produced by his bar-room 
in the prison, by purchasing any of his beer. This 

6* 



62 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1656. 

man, as well as his bar-keeper, often shamefully abused 
them. The latter once violently hit one of them with 
a stone, and took up a stool also as a missile, and 
often beat them on their faces and elsewhere with his 
fists, for no other cause than their faithfully reprov- 
ing his wickedness. Some of the other prisoners also, 
encouraged by the example of this man and the gaoler, 
would frequently take away their food, and several 
times beat and stoned them, and threatened to kill 
them, or knock them on the head ; and very frequently 
were they struck so violently by the gaoler or his 
agents, that the blood gushed from their mouths and 
noses. 

Some of their fellow-prisoners who joined with 
them in drinking nothing but water, participated in 
this ill usage ; and after a time, George Whitehead 
and two others were let down by a ladder into a 
dismal noisome dungeon, twelve feet deep under the 
ground, very dark, and very narrow. At the bottom, 
was an iron grate with the bars more than twelve 
inches apart, extending over a pit, they knew not how 
deep, into which they might have fallen, but for the 
kind warning of a woman who saw them put down 
into the dungeon : so that bv standing close to the 
sides they kept themselves from slipping in. They 
were however preserved through all this cruel usage, 
in great resignation, and were favoured with the sweet 
sense of the glorious presence of the Lord, so that 
they could even sing praises to his name in the midst 
of their sufferings. 

Whilst they were in this dungeon, some of their 
Friends from a distance came to visit them, but were 
not suffered to come to them ; and so wickedly sordid 
indeed was the gaoler, that when their friends, moved 
by compassion, and a desire to minister to their wants, 
would approach the prison door or window, he or his 
company would cast water upon the in, and refuse 
them all access unless they would pay money to be 
allowed to enter. At length, after fifteen months' im- 



1658.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 63 

prisonment, they were released by order of Oliver 
Cromwell, at the instance of their friends in London, 
particularly of a Friend named Mary Sanders, who 
lived in the Protector's family. 

The next winter George Whitehead visited London, 
and w r as instrumental to the convincing of many ; and 
after his return, he found it laid upon him to go to 
Navland to hold a meeting with the inhabitants, 
where his life had been threatened on a former occa- 
sion, if he should venture to hold a meeting there. 
The meeting was held in a small orchard, w T here, 
after waiting on the Lord for some time in silence, 
George Whitehead felt himself constrained to preach 
the everlasting gospel without fear of man. But after 
he had preached a considerable time, a person rushed 
in with a constable and rude company, pulled him 
down from the stool on which he was standing, and 
carried him off to the justice's hall. After a pretended 
examination, the justice informed him that he was to 
be whipped severely the next day; that if he came 
thither again, he should be branded on the shoulder 
as a rogue ; and if he came a third time, he should 
be hanged. George exhorted the justice to repent- 
ance, and told him that notwithstanding all their threat- 
enings, if the Lord, whom he served, should require 
his return, he must obey Him. 

The next day the sentence was put in execution. 
George Whitehead was conveyed into the market- 
place, and stripped to the waist ; and a man employed 
by the constable laid on so violently w T ith a long, sharp 
w r hip, that large stripes and cuts were visible on his 
back and breast, and the blood flowed freely. Many 
of the spectators wept to see this cruelty, and some 
cried out to stop it ; but the innocent victim w r as 
borne above his sufferings by the power of the 
Lord, and was enabled to sing praises to His Holy 
name, in that he had been accounted worthy to suffer 
for His Truth's sake. After the execution, he was 
permitted to take his horse, and was conveyed out of 



64 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652. 

the county by constables ; and coming into Essex, he 
had many good meetings, the people being aroused by 
the accounts of his sufferings, and anxious to meet 
with the young man who had been so cruelly whipped 
at Nayland. So that the malice of his enemies was 
overruled, to the spreading of a knowledge of the 
Truth in the eastern counties of England. 

The year 1652, was also productive of the con- 
vincement of the wife and family of Judge Fell, of 
Swarthmore, in Lancashire. Margaret Fell was a 
woman of a very superior mind, highly esteemed by 
men of eminence in the neighbourhood, for her natural 
abilities, and her religious disposition. She and her 
children and several of their household joined the 
Society ; and though her husband did not entirely leave 
his former profession, yet he remained ever after- 
wards very friendly to George Fox and his brethren, 
and their house was a hospitable resting place for the 
ministers of Truth for many years. Some time after 
the decease of Judge Fell, his widow, w r ho had herself 
become a minister of the Gospel, and travelled exten- 
sively in its service, married George Fox, and was 
for the remainder of her life eminently useful in the 
church, as a succourer of many under affliction for 
the gospel's sake, and a strengthener of the hands of 
the standard-bearers, in the army of the Lamb. 

The persecutions of various kinds with which 
George Fox was assailed, during the year 1652, were 
indeed enough to discourage any man not supported 
by a consciousness that he was acting under the im- 
mediate authority of the Almighty. A few of them 
may be briefly recounted before we pass on. 

At Tickhill, he went, under religious constraint, to 
the public worship house, and found the priest and 
the chief persons of the parish in the chancel. He 
says, " I went up to them, and began to speak ; but 
they immediately fell upon me ; and the clerk up with 
his Bible as 1 was speaking, and struck me on the 
face with it, so that my face gushed out with blood, 



1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 65 

and I bled exceedingly in the steeple-house. Then 
the people cried, ' Let us have him out of the church :' 
and when they had- got me out, they beat me exceed- 
ingly, and threw me down, and over a hedge ; and 
afterwards they dragged me through a house into the 
street, stoning and beating me as they dragged me 
along, so that J was all over besmeared with blood and 
dirt. They got my hat from me, which I never got 
again. Yet when I w T as got upon my legs again, I 
declared to them the word of life, and showed them 
the fruits of their teacher, and how they dishonoured 
Christianity." 

Shortly after this, he came at night to a small tavern 
on a common, and found there a company of rude 
fellows drinking ; and because he refused to drink 
with them, they struck him with their clubs. He 
reproved them, and walked out of the house upon the 
common ; but one of these men followed him out, and 
would have come close up to him, under a pretence 
of w r hispering something to him ; when George per- 
ceived that he had a knife, and therefore kept clear of 
him, warning, him to repent and fear God. The man 
being thus defeated in his wicked attempt, left George 
on the common during the night, and returned into the 
house. 

Having visited Friends in Westmoreland, he return- 
ed into Lancashire ; and at Ulverstone on a lecture- 
day, he felt it to be his duty to address the people 
assembled in the public meeting-house, after the priest 
had finished a blustering harangue. They were quiet, 
and heard him gladly, until a justice of the peace 
stirred them up against him, inciting them to break 
the peace, in tumultuously falling upon this innocent 
man. They got into a great rage, knocked him down, 
kicked him and trampled on him in the steeple-house; 
and so great was the uproar, that some people tum- 
bled over their seats for fear. This justice at length 
led him out of the house, and bid the constables whip 
him and put him out of the town. They led him 



66 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652. 

about a quarter of a mile, some holding him by his 
collar, and some by his arms and shoulders, and thus 
they shook and dragged him along. Many friendly 
people who heard him gladly in the meeting-house, 
were also knocked down, and had their heads broken, 
so that the blood ran from several of them ; and Judge 
Fell's son running after, to see what they would do 
with George Fox, they threw him into a ditch, some 
of them crying out " knock the teeth out of his head." 
The officers having got George out of the town, beat 
him with their rods, and thrust him among the rude 
rabble ; who, having furnished themselves with hedge- 
stakes, large sticks and holly bushes, fell upon him, 
and beat him on the head, arms and shoulders, till 
they deprived him of sense, and he fell down on the 
wet common, where he lay for some time. About 
two weeks afterwards, at a place called Cock an, 
in Walney island, there came a man with a pistol, 
and snapped it at George Fox ; but happily it would 
not go off; and George solemnly addressing the man 
on his wickedness, he was so struck by the power of 
the Lord, that he trembled for fear, and, went and hid 
himself. 

The next morning, crossing a part of the sea in a 
boat, as soon as he came to land, about forty men 
rushed out with staves, clubs, and fishing-poles, who 
fell upon him, beating and kicking him, and endea- 
vouring to thrust him backward into the sea. But 
he went up into the midst of them ; when they furi- 
ously laid at him again, knocked him down, and 
stunned him. When he came to himself, he looked 
up and saw a woman throwing stones at his face, 
while her husband was lying over him, to ward off 
the stones and other blows. Some of these people 
had persuaded this woman that George Fox had 
" bewitched" her husband, and had promised her that 
if she would let them know when he came thither, 
they would be the death of him. But the Lord pre- 
served his faithful servant out of the hands of these 



1654.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 67 

wicked men. George having at length been set over 
the water again, came to the town on the other side, 
when he was assailed by the rabble with flails, pitch- 
forks, and staves, crying, " Kill him ! knock him on 
the head !" &c. : and after they had grossly abused 
him, they drove him a considerable distance from the 
town, and there left him. Margaret Fell, hearing of 
the circumstance, sent a horse to convey him to her 
hospitable mansion, where he was well cared for in 
his bruised and exhausted condition ; and the woman 
who had thrown stones at him, afterwards repented 
of her wickedness and became convinced of the 
truth, as did also some others of those bitter perse- 
cutors. 

He w r as now summoned to appear before the court 
at Lancaster; where about forty priests appeared 
against him ; but so well did he defend himself and 
advocate the principles of truth, that he w r as fully 
discharged in open court ; some of the priests were 
publicly rebuked from the bench; Justice Benson and 
the mayor of Lancaster, with many others, were 
convinced ; and the people cried out, that " the 
Quakers had got the day, and the priests were fallen." 

As he staid two or three days after this in Lan- 
caster, some of the rude people plotted together to 
draw him out of the house, and throw him over the 
bridge into the river ; but being defeated in this, they 
set a madman and another fellow at him, with sticks, 
in order to accomplish their wicked intent. George 
spoke to them " in the Lord's mighty power," which 
chained them both down, and made them calm and 
quiet. 

It was not till the year 1654, that any ministers of 
the people called Quakers appear to have visited the 
city of London ; unless Gervase Benson, who was 
there in 1653, were in that station, which is some- 
what doubtful. Several Friends' books however had 
been printed in that city during the year last-men- 
tioned. In the beginning of 1654 some tender people 



68 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1654. 

there were drawn into communion with each other 
by the power of the Spirit of Truth operating upon 
their minds, and inclining them to greater spirituality 
and a closer walk with God : and about the end of 
the first month in this year, Francis Howgill and 
John Camm visited Oliver Cromwell on behalf of 
their suffering brethren, and went to some of the pub- 
lic meeting-houses, declaring the way of the Lord. 
This spring also, two women from the north, one of 
whom was Isabel Buttery, came to London, and be- 
came acquainted with one of those seeking persons, 
Simon Dring, of Moorfields, and also with Amos 
Stodart, who from conscientious scruples had recent- 
ly resigned his commission as captain in the army. 
These women brought with them for distribution, 
copies of an epistle from George Fox, " To all that 
would know the way to the kingdom ;" w T hich direct- 
ed people to turn their minds within, where the voice 
of God is to be heard ; and walking with Amos 
Stodart and Simon Dring in the suburbs, they met 
with Ruth Brown, a young woman of about sixteen 
years of age. This young woman, receiving one of 
the epistles, was convinced of the truth of the princi- 
ples therein laid down, and thenceforth joined the 
small number of congenial minds who then began to 
meet together to wait upon God. They met at the 
houses of Robert and Simon Drin^ ; and sometimes 
Isabel and her companion spoke a few words by way 
of ministry. In the Fifth month of that year, Francis 
Howgill, Richard Hubberthorn, Edward Burrough, 
and Anthony Pearson, were moved to visit the hidden 
seed in that great metropolis ; who having meetings 
in several places, their ministrations were attended 
with signal success in gathering into the fold of 
Christ many that were "waiting for the consolation 
of Israel.' 1 ' Meetings of Friends were soon settled 
in various parts of the metropolis— at first in private 
houses— until the Society there growing too large for 
these to accommodate, a house known by the name 



1653.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 69 

of the " Bull and Mouth," near Aldersgate street, 
was hired as a public meeting-house. This place 
subsequently became the scene of bitter persecutions 
to this unoffending people. 



CHAPTER VII. 

RISE OF THE SOCIETY IN IRELAND WILLIAM EDMUNDSON. 

There is no account of Ireland being visited by 
any ministers of the Society of Friends, previous 
to the year 1654. The first person who publicly 
espoused its principles in that country appears to have 
been that subsequently eminent minister of the Gospel, 
William Edmundson. 

He was born in the county of Westmoreland, 
England, in the year 1627, and when about twenty- 
three years of age, went into the army, during the 
civil wars, and continued for some time a soldier 
under the Parliament. He had often, even from his 
youthful days, experienced the good hand of the 
Lord, tendering his spirit, and bringing him into seri- 
ous thoughtfulness respecting the eternal welfare of 
his soul ; and while he was serving in the army in 
Scotland under Oliver Cromwell, it pleased the Lord 
to bring matters closer home to him, and to visit him 
by the strivings of His Spirit, in order to draw him 
out of the corruptions of the world, into a nearer 
acquaintance and precious communion with Christ, 
revealed within as the power of God, and the wisdom 
of God. In 1651, he returned with the army to 
England, and being quartered in Derbyshire, he there 
heard of the people called Quakers ; and though 
they were much spoken against, he found his heart 
secretly drawn towards them for good. He however 

7 



70 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1853. 

marched again into Scotland, and then left the army, 
and returned back to England. About this time he 
married ; and at the solicitation of his brother, who 
was a soldier in Ireland, he went over and settled at 
Antrim, entering into mercantile business. Here the 
officers of the regiment in which his brother served, 
kindly offered him the usual pay, without his being 
obliged to perform actual duty, or neglect his busi- 
ness ; but his conscience had been awakened by the 
Lord's judgments, and he declined this offer. He 
soon sold off his stock of goods ; and going over to 
England to purchase a fresh supply, he heard of 
George Fox and James Nayler being in the north; 
and feeling a great desire to meet with them, he went 
to a place where James Nayler was, and had an 
opportunity of hearing him discourse of the things of 
God's kingdom, and the work of regeneration. And 
though James's words were not many, yet they were 
so powerful, and so fully reached and answered the 
testimony of the divine witness in his own mind, that 
his heart was opened to receive the word preached, 
and to confess that it was indeed the truth. He was 
now brought into great exercise of spirit ; his former 
ways were " hedged up ;" and many things to which 
he had been accustomed w 7 ere shown to him in the 
Light of Christ, to be incompatible with the purity 
and entire obedience to which he was called. He 
flinched not however from the hand of the Lord, for 
his sins were set clearly before him, and he felt that 
he must be purged from them through judgment. 
And returning shortly to Ireland, the Lord's hand 
was mercifully laid upon him, while at. sea, producing 
great wrestlings and conflicts of spirit; under a 
strong temptation to land his goods clandestinely and 
avoid paying the duty ; but this he was enabled to 
withstand. He landed at Carrickfergus ; and rode 
twelve miles to his own home. His brother meeting 
him at the door, offered the usual salutation, probably 
bowing and using the empty complimentary phrases 



1653.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 71 

so ready in the mouths of men of the world. The 
Lord's power that instant so seized upon William, 
that he could not join in what he now saw to be 
vanity; and he was broken into many tears. His 
wife and brother were amazed at the change, but 
made no opposition- 
He had now to undergo a further trial of faith, in 
passing his goods at the custom-house. The officers 
required the usual oath, and would have seized his 
goods ; but he firmly told them that he could not 
swear, for Christ had forbidden it. This was strange 
to them, having never known it objected to before ; 
and his serious "deportment, his refusal to put off his 
hat in compliment to them, and his steady adher- 
ence to the simple language of Thou and Thee, were 
very offensive ; but after much difficulty he at length 
obtained the clearing of his goods, and brought them 
safely home. 

His spiritual conflicts continued, his sleep often 
departed from him, and deep were the baptisms into 
which his soul was plunged, for its purification from 
every defilement. He had no outward adviser to 
depend upon, and would have gone far for the com- 
pany of an experienced Friend; but he was thus 
mercifully taught to depend on the Lord alone for all 
his fresh springs of life and strength. 

After a time there came into the country one 
Major Bousfield, who professed to be a very know- 
ing man in the things of religion, and spoke plau- 
sibly of his unity with George Fox and James Nay- 
ler. William Edmundson went to see him, and heard 
abundance of talk, and was at first glad to think that 
he had met with one so knowing, and so capable of 
advising him in his great troubles. But Bousfield 
advised him to be cheerful and merry, and not to look 
at these inward troubles, which he represented as the 
work of the enemy, to bring him into despair. This 
doctrine was very comfortable to the natural inclina- 
tions, and love of ease to the flesh prompted him to 



72 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1654. 

take hold of it. It seemed quickly to heal his mala- 
dies without the daily cross of Christ, or self-denial. 
But this false healing lasted only about a week. The 
Lord in great mercy pursued him, and let him see, 
in that light which cannot deceive, that something 
was yet in him that withstood the work of God, and 
that this must be crucified by the Lord's judgments, 
and by the daily cross of Christ Jesus. " Then," 
says he, " I saw there was no physician but the Lord 
alone ; and I also saw where Bousfield was, and all 
of that spirit ; that they took up their rest and satis- 
faction in a talk and notion of religion, without the 
true cross of Christ, that should mortify their lusts, 
wills, and vile affections, and crucify them to the 
world, and the world unto them ; being at ease in a 
form of godliness, without the real work of the 
power." 

Early in the year 1654, Myles Halhead, James 
Lancaster, and Miles Bateman visited Ireland, and 
had some interviews with the rulers and the officers 
of the army, but soon returned to England. Wil- 
liam was then removing from Antrim to Lurgan. 
His wife and brother soon became convinced of that 
truth which had so powerfully operated upon himself; 
and they met together in his house twice a week, to 
wait on the Lord in silence. After a short time, four 
more were convinced and joined with them ; and this 
was the first settled meeting of Friends in Ireland. A 
number of sober people were after a while attracted to 
them, and the name of Friends, and reputation of the 
way of Truth was spread abroad. 

It was not long before the Great Head of the 
church saw meet to endow William Edmundson with 
a gift in the ministry of the gospel among this little 
company; and though he was under great fear of 
being deluded by a wrong spirit, yet faithfully obey- 
ing the divine call, and waiting on the gift in all 
humility and watchfulness, he was gradually enlarged 
in experience of the mysteries of the heavenly kingdom, 



1655.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 73 

and fitted for extensive usefulness in the church. 
Being moved to go to the public worship-house at 
Lurgan, to declare the truth to the people, he was 
much beaten and abused ; but his testimony reached 
the consciences of several of the congregation, of 
whom two individuals followed him out of the house 
and joined with Friends. 

The next Friend who came into Ireland was John 
Tiffin, who spent some time with the small company 
at Lurgan, occasionally speaking a few words among 
them, to their edification and comfort. William Ed- 
mundson accompanied him to several places, where 
they had good service, man}^ beginning to inquire 
into the truth of those principles which they held 
forth. But one of their most prominent testimonies 
being levelled against all hire for preaching the gos- 
pel, the priests began to be alarmed, and incensed the 
magistrates against Friends, as holding " damnable 
doctrines," and being " led away with the delusions 
of Satan." Their pride too was wounded, by the 
refusal of Friends to give them the usual compli- 
mentary salutations, or to address them singly in the 
plural number. This they could not suffer, and ac- 
cordingly beset Friends with frequent abuse, and 
sometimes with stones and blows. 

William and John went to Belfast, where they 
could find but one inn that would admit them to lodge. 
John was very desirous of obtaining an open door 
for preaching the word of Truth in that town ; but 
the people shut their ears, doors, and hearts against 
it and them. Being disappointed in all their endea- 
vours to obtain a room in which to hold a meeting, 
they went to a place near the town, where three lanes 
met, and there sat down and waited on the Lord. 
People gathered about them in wonder, and they thus 
had an opportunity of directing their attention to the 
Spirit of God in their own hearts, and spreading the 
sound of the Gospel through the land. John Tiffin 
soon after returned to England ; but the Truth gained 

*7 



74 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1655. 

ground and prevailed, and Friends increased in num- 
ber, and were preserved in a lowly watchful state of 
mind, which made their very countenances preach to 
their sober neighbours. John Shaw, (who with his 
family was convinced about this time) often after- 
wards said that William Edmundson's words and 
deportment were a means of convincing him of the 
truth. 

The next messenger of the gospel sent into Ire- 
land was Richard Clayton, whom also William 
Edmundson accompanied in his journey, both of 
them travelling on foot. At Coleraine they preached 
to the people in the streets, but being banished from 
the town, they went and lodged in a cabin among 
the mountains. They had two meetings at Lon- 
donderry, where a family of five persons were con- 
vinced, and the governor being at both meetings 
acknowledged, with several others, the truth of 
what was testified. At several other places they 
were made instrumental to the convincement of 
many tender seeking individuals, and some meet- 
ings were soon settled, particularly near Kilmore, 
and at the Grange below Antrim, and also at 
Toberhead. But the priests became more and more 
enraged, and put William Edmundson in prison 
at Armagh ; where the Lord was his strength, in 
his own conscious weakness, and His power en- 
abled him to confound the sophistry of the priest 
and the justice, and the jailer could not bear to 
look him in the face. It does not appear that he 
remained long in prison; for at his examination 
the people were satisfied of his innocence, and the 
court, ashamed of his commitment, set him at 
liberty. He went over to England this year, on 
a visit to George Fox, whom he had not before 
met with. George was tenderly affected, and heard 
with gladness of the progress of Truth in Ireland. 
He took William Edmundson into an orchard, where 
he kneeled down and prayed ; and afterwards sent 



1655.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 75 

by him a short epistle to the Friends in Ireland, 
exhorting them faithfully to wait on that Power 
which had convinced them, and dwell in the life, 
love, power and wisdom of God, and in love one 
with another and with God. Edward Burrough 
and Francis Howgill had gone over to Ireland, 
and George Fox desired William Edmundson to 
join them on his return. These friends were emin- 
ently serviceable in that island, particularly in the 
province of Munster, many receiving their testi- 
mony and adhering to the doctrine they preached. 
At Bandon, Edward Cook, a man of great parts, 
who had been a cornet of horse in Oliver Crom- 
well's own troop, and receiver to Lord Cork, was 
with his wife convinced, and remained a stedfast 
and useful member. Several others there also joined 
the Society. At Limerick, attempting to speak to 
the people in the public meeting house, they were 
run upon by a mob, and put out of the town ; but 
as they rode along, Edward Burrough preached 
through the streets on horseback, and when out- 
side of the gates, had an opportunity of speaking 
to a great multitude who assembled there, direct- 
ing them to Christ Jesus, a measure of whose Spirit 
was given to every man to profit withal ; and several 
were convinced. Several also were convinced by 
these Friends at Kinsale, among whom was Susan- 
na Worth, wife of Edward Worth, afterwards 
Bishop of Killaloe, who suffered much from her 
husband, but lived and died in unity with Friends. 

This year also came over Elizabeth Fletcher and 
Elizabeth Smith, who were the first Friends who 
held a settled meeting in Dublin, and the first also 
w r ho came to Cork, where many were convinced. 

About this time a singular exercise fell upon Wil- 
liam Edmundson, as he was attending a fair on 
business at Antrim ; by which he was instructed in 
the benefit of faithfully attending to the secret inti- 
mations of the divine Monitor, saying, " this is the 



76 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1655. 

way, walk in it, " even when he might not see im- 
mediately the intention of the Almighty in thus lead- 
ing him by a way that he knew not. Returning 
with his brother late from the fair, they proposed 
to lodge at Glenavy, six miles on their way home- 
ward ; but before they arrived there, William was 
introduced into a great exercise of mind, accom- 
panied with an intimation, the source of which he 
believed to be the divine Spirit, that his shop w r as 
in danger of being robbed that night, but that he 
was to go back towards Clough ; and being much 
perplexed under the apprehension of danger to his 
property on the one hand if he went not home, and 
on the other hand not knowing wmerefore he should 
be required to go back to Clough, he cried earnest- 
ly to the Lord, to be preserved from following a 
delusive spirit, and that he might be directed what 
course to pursue. On which he received a clear 
intimation, that the same power which required 
him to go back, would preserve his property from 
harm. Lodging at Glenavy, he slept but little ; but 
in the morning, not daring to disobey so clear a 
command, he let his brother proceed homewards, 
while he went himself to Clough. Two female 
ministers from London, Anne Gould and Julian 
Wastwood, had recently come into Ireland, and 
after passing through much of the northern part of 
the island, on foot, wading rivers and dirty miry 
ways during the cold weather of winter, they came 
to Clough. Anne being a delicate woman, was 
much exhausted, and staying there, the enemy of 
all good persuaded her that God had forsaken her, 
and that she was there to be destroyed ; so that she 
fell into despair. William Edmundson knew nothing 
of these women, but his feet were directed to the 
inn where they were staying. Anne was over- 
whelmed under mental trouble, but he was made 
the instrument of her consolation, so that she en- 
tirely revived, and rejoiced in the consciousness that 



1655.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 77 

she had escaped from a great temptation. He as- 
sisted them on their journey with his horse as far 
as Carrickfergus, whence going home he sent a 
conveyance for them to his house. 

On reaching his home, he found that on the night 
when the foregoing exercise came upon him, the shop 
window was broken down by robbers, and fell with 
such violence on the counter as to awaken his family, 
and the thieves being frightened ran away. " So, " 
says he, " I was confirmed that it was the word of 
the Lord, that said, ' that which drew me back should 
preserve my shop ; ' and I was greatly strengthened 
to obey the Lord in w r hat he required; for I was much 
afraid, lest at any time my understanding should be 
betrayed by a wrong spirit ; not fearing the loss of 
goods, nor sufferings for the truth, its testimony being 
more to me than all other things." 

About this year or the next, a number of Friends 
went to Limerick in the ministry of the gospel, and 
were instrumental in convincing several. These new 
converts however being but weak, for a time con- 
tinued to go to hear one Robert Wilkinson, a captain 
in the army, a man much esteemed, but greatly given 
to religious disputation, and much a stranger to that 
silent and humble waiting in the divine Light, which 
would mortify the carnal will, and bring dow r n that 
disposition which w r ould busily but unprofitably inter- 
meddle in spiritual matters. Him, however, these 
newly convinced ones went to hear, not seeing through 
the shallowness of the man ; until one Abraham New- 
bold was moved to come from YVaterford thither, who 
going into the meeting where Captain Wilkinson was 
preaching, stood up, and with a strong voice, and 
the liberty much exercised in the congregations of 
that day, cried out, "Serpent, be silent !" Wilkinson 
hearing these few but potent words, would have en- 
tered into dispute, and inquired by what spirit Abra- 
ham spoke; to which the latter merely replied, "Thou 
knowest not." The preacher attempted to proceed, 



78 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656. 

but was utterly confounded, and carried out of the 
meeting. The next meeting day also he was taken 
out fainting, and from that time ceased preaching 
any more. These convinced persons afterwards be- 
came more enlightened in their understandings, met 
together in silence, and bore a faithful testimony 
against the fashions and manners of the world ; so 
that they had to bear their share of reproach and 
imprisonment, and their neighbours were even pro- 
hibited by the magistrates from purchasing anything 
from them in the way of their trade. 

We have now briefly traced the steps of some of 
those pioneers of the spiritual army, who first pro- 
claimed in word and in life the pure principles of the 
Society of Friends in Ireland. We have seen that 
in common with their brethren in England, they had 
to stem the current of prevailing modes of thought, 
and boldly oppose the most favourite and cherished 
practices of the community around them ; for they 
were men who, in the Light of Christ, seeing through 
the emptiness of mere profession without substance, 
and having themselves felt the sorrowful effects of 
living in a dependence on outward rites and cere- 
monies, could not but cry aloud against the corrup- 
tions which successive ages had introduced into the 
professing church, and which were greatly hinder- 
ing those " who were entering " with sincere 
hearts, into the kingdom. This brought them, of 
course, into suffering at the instigation of the priests, 
whose influence their principles were so directly 
calculated to overturn ; and many were the days 
and weeks and months passed by these faithful wit- 
nesses in dungeons and noisome prisons, for the 
word of God and the testimony of Jesus; though 
it does not appear that in Ireland the attempts to 
put them down by force were so systematic or 
so violent as in some other parts. The rabble were 
guilty of much personal abuse, set on by their 
priests, and the magistrates inflicted grievous im- 



1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 79 

prisonments ; but beyond this they seem to have 
been restrained by the power of Him whose will 
had called the Society into existence, and who 
caused the plant of his right-hand planting to pros- 
per even under the foot of the oppressor. William 
Edmundson, who had now given up his shop, and 
taken a farm in the county Cavan, thus describes 
the state of the little band of Friends in Ireland, 
about twelve years after he had himself openly 
espoused its cause : 

"Truth," says he, " was much spread, and meet- 
ings settled in several places; and many being 
convinced and brought to the knowledge of God, 
were added to Friends. But sufferings increased for 
not paying tithes and priests' maintenance, and to- 
wards repairing their worship-houses, for not ob- 
serving their holy-days, so called, and such like. 
They fleeced us in taking our goods, and imprisoned 
some. 

" In those days the world and the things of it were 
not near our hearts ; but the love of God, his truth 
and testimony, lived in our hearts ; we were glad of 
one another's company, though sometimes our out- 
ward fare was very mean, and our lodging on straw. 
We did not mind high things, but were glad one of 
another's welfare in the Lord ; and his love dwelt 
in us. I was often abroad in Truth's service, visit- 
ing Friends, and getting meetings in several places. 
I was moved to travel into Leinster, and went from 
place to place, as the Lord's good Spirit guided me." 

" I went to Mullingar, and lodged there one night, 
where was a trooper that was convinced, who rode 
with me several miles the next day, and continued 
coming to meetings. I came that night to Finagh ; 
but the inn-keepers refused me lodging, for they 
knew I w r as a ' Quaker.' It was winter, and cold 
weather ; so I inquired for the constable, and told 
him he must provide me lodging, for I was a tra- 
veller, had money to pay for what I should have, 



80 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656. 

and had been at the inns, where they refused me 
lodging. He kept an ale-house, and had also re- 
fused me ; but after much discourse, he told me 
I must be content with such lodging as he had for 
me. I told him to let me have a room with a 
fire, and hay for my horse, and I would be content. 
So I alighted, went into the house, and there were 
troopers drinking. They soon perceived what I 
was, and began to scoff, and ask me many ques- 
tions, which I answered in my freedom ; but when 
I ' thee'd' and ' thou'd' them in our discourse, they 
were very angry; and one of them swore, if I 
* thou'd' him again, he would cleave my head. But 
in our discourse, when it came in its place, I ' thou'd* 
him again ; and he starting up in anger, drew his 
sword ; but one of his corporals sitting by him 
stopped him, and commanded him to put up his 
sword, for there should be no cleaving of heads 
there ; so caused the troopers to go to their quar- 
ters ; but he staid with me discoursing late in the 
night, and was convinced, being tender, received 
the Truth, and came to meetings. 

" About this time w~e had a meeting at Belturbet, 
and the Lord's power and presence was with us ; 
but the provost of the town was an envious man, 
who came with some rude people, broke up our 
meeting, and took us to prison, both men and 
women. We w r ere all night in a very cold place, 
and the women mightily pinched with cold, it being 
frost and snow. The next morning he set all the 
other Friends at liberty, but me he put in the stocks 
in the market-place ; and people gathered about me, 
where I had an opportunity to preach the truth to 
them ; which they heard with soberness, were ten- 
der, and reflected much upon the provost for abus- 
ing us. 

" Robert Wardell then, (being but a boy) told the 
provost, he had set a better man than himself in the 
stocks, and there was a time wiien such as he durst 






1655.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 81 

not have meddled with me : wherefore the provost 
took him, and set him in the stocks by me. But his 
father heard of it, and threatened the provost 
with the law ; so Robert Wardell was soon taken 
out of the stocks ; who being convinced, kept with 
Friends, and afterwards became a serviceable man 
for Truth, and a preacher of it. 

" The people were much dissatisfied with the pro- 
vost; so he sent his officer to let me loose; who 
opened the stocks, and bade me 'take out my leg, 
for I might go my way.' I told him, ' I had been 
grossly abused, and made a public spectacle to the 
people, as though I had done some great offence, 
but I was not convicted of the breach of any law; 
so let the provost come himself and take me out, 
for he put me in.' The provost came and opened 
the stocks, bidding me ' take out my leg.' 1 told 
him, ' No ; for he had made me a spectacle to the 
people, and I knew no law that I had broken ; but 
let him take out my leg, that put it in.' So he 
opened the stocks with one hand, and took my leg 
out with the other." 



CHAPTER VIII. 

CONVINCEMENT OF HUMPHREY BACHE. 

The conversion of Humphrey Bache, about the 
year 1655, from the maxims and religion of the 
world, to those pure and undefiled principles of Truth 
under which many seeking souls were now gathering 
into a visible church, was a remarkable instance of the 
efficacy of the Light of Christ, received and cherished 
in the mind, not only to show forth sin in its true char- 
acter in a manner widely different from the maxims 

8 



82 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1655. 

of human policy, but also, in its cleansing operations 
on the heart, to constrain the subject of its power to 
righteous confession and compensation for wrongs or 
injuries committed. 

He was brought up a goldsmith in the city of Lon- 
don ; but the civil war breaking out between Charles 
the First and the Parliament, his business failed to 
afford him a maintenance, and he applied to the lead- 
ers of the popular party for some office. He was 
accordingly employed as an overseer of workmen 
engaged in building the fortifications about London. 
His allowance was three shillings a day, with which, 
for a time, he was well contented. He frequently 
observed that some of the other overseers would go 
with those they employed, and treat them to strong 
drink. Being told by one of the workmen, that the 
money so spent did not come out of the salaries of 
those officers, he inquired how that could be. " Do 
you not know," said his informant, " they can some- 
times set dowm a man more than they employ ; or if 
that cannot so well be, set down for some, two pence 
a-day more than they give V' This was a new idea 
to Humphrey, who being off his guard, satan worked 
therein with much subtilty to betray him. His hon- 
esty of purpose at last gave way, and he began to 
covet more than his wages ; and his heart becoming 
corrupt in its desires, he soon proved unfaithful to his 
trust, and acting on the hint he had received, he 
robbed the commonwealth of its dues. During the 
time he remained in this employment, the amount 
he took, more than his wages, was about six pounds. 

Of course he had no peace of mind, and was often 
troubled at the thought of the wrong he w 7 as doing. 
But he had departed from his God, through the in- 
ward operations of w r hose Holy Spirit he might have 
found preservation from all evil ; and he now^ had no 
will nor strength to resist the temptation. Encourag- 
ing himself in the deceitfulness of his heart, his spirit- 
ual eye became, for a time, so far blinded, that he did 



1655.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 83 

not see the evil to be so great as it first appeared. 
His heart was hardened through his continued viola- 
tion of right, until at length he went on without much 
conviction or remorse. 

When the fortifications around London were com- 
pleted, Humphrey obtained a situation in the custom- 
house. Having yet some fear of his Heavenly Father 
remaining in him, he discharged his duty, for a sea- 
son, with true fidelity. So long as he retained that 
fear, he was preserved from joining with those about 
him in robbing the public treasury. At this time, he 
often felt bitterness of soul for what he had formerly 
done ; and this assisted him, as he firmly resisted all 
bribes, withholding his lips from the proffered wine 
— his hand from the tempting silver. 

His companions, who had departed from honesty 
and simplicity, into that serpentine wisdom w r hich 
uses its plausible pretences to lead others astray, ad- 
vanced many specious arguments to persuade him to 
act as they did. Listening from time to time to their 
beguiling words, he was at length staggered ; for he 
had not as yet learned, that man's only safety from 
sin depends on his turning away from the arguments, 
enticements and examples of unregenerate men, 
watching unto prayer, and seeking unto God for 
wisdom to know, and strength to execute His will. 
He saw that others were violating their oaths, regard- 
less of their duty; and this strengthened the natural 
covetousness of his heart. Nothing that he heard or 
saw, had so great an influence on him, as the unfaith- 
fulness of the members of the " Long Parliament," 
which was then sitting ; and he had no hesitation in 
telling them afterwards, that it was through their 
evil example, he had been led to violate his trust. 

He soon fell from his integrity, and again sought by 
unfair means to increase his wages. Yet the Lord, 
in love to his soul, followed him with reproofs and 
corrections ; and in order to break his hard heart, 
judgment after judgment was administered to him. 



64 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1655. 

He continued, however, going on in the same course of 
iniquity, until through the inward rebukes of the Holy 
Spirit, he was filled with fear and terror. Being now 
devoid of comfort, he became very irritable. A 
small thing would ruffle his temper, and lead him to 
quarrel with his dearest friends. He who had been 
very loving and gentle towards his wife, was now 
so peevish, so fretful, and so froward, that he would 
often break out into fits of anger with her, even 
when she spoke mildly and pleasantly to him. 

For a long time he felt the weight of condemnation 
upon him, and had many thoughts as to what he must 
do to find relief. Sometimes he thought of making 
restitution, confessing what he had done, and surren- 
dering himself to the commissioners, to deal with 
him as they should think best. His heart, however, 
was not yet rightly subdued ; and though for the last 
year he held the office, he scrupulously refused to 
take more than his due, he still retained the gain of 
his former wickedness. 

We have seen that Francis Howgill and Edward 
Burrough, in the year 1654, came from the north of 
England to London, preaching the gospel in the de- 
monstration of the Spirit and of power, and that 
many being there gathered into communion with 
them, meetings were established in and about this 
great metropolis, that year and the next. One of 
these meetings Humphrey Bache attended ; but what 
he then heard had very little e fleet upon him. Some 
time after, one of his acquaintance inquiring of him 
whether he had been to hear the Quakers, he replied, 
he had heard them once. " Yes," rejoined his friend, 
" but hear them five or six times, and then judge 
whether it be not truth that they declare." Hum- 
phrey accordingly attended two or three meetings 
more, still without appearing to receive any particu- 
lar spiritual benefit. After a time, again feeling some 
inclination to try them, he went to the " Bull and 
Mouth" meeting, where were those three eminent 



1655.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 85 

ministers of the gospel of Christ, George Fox, Fran- 
cis Howgill, and Edward Burrough. One of them, 
while speaking of the cross of Christ, which all true 
disciples must take up daily, said to this effect: — 
" The carnal mind is enmity against God. As any 
one comes to stand in the cross, which is the pow T er 
of God, the enmity is broken down, and reconcilia- 
tion is witnessed. The enmity is slain by the power 
of God — by that which crosseth the carnal mind — 
which is, the Light." 

Under this testimony, the heart of Humphrey 
Bache was reached. The witness for God within 
him responded to the truth of what was uttered, and 
to its applicability to his own condition. He knew 
that " the Light which shine th in a dark place" had 
discovered his sin to him, and reproved him for that 
which his carnal mind urged him to do. He saw 
that as the cross was taken up, death must needs 
come on the carnal mind ; sin must cease ; and thus 
the partition wall between him and his God would be 
broken dow r n. 

Now, as the mysteries of the kingdom were opened 
before him, his inward eye was anointed to discover 
the mysteries of iniquity also. His heart was in 
measure turned to the Lord, and desires were raised 
in him for perfect redemption from sin. In order to 
witness this, he was led into inward waiting on the 
Lord, that he might receive the further manifestations 
of that divine Light, which he now knew had often 
convinced him of sin. He who had died to save 
him, now, by his Holy Spirit, instructed his soul, 
opening his inward condition, and showing him what 
yet stood between him and reconciliation with God, 

The first thing which was then made manifest to 
him was his former unfaithfulness to his trust. In 
the remembrance thereof, trouble and anguish were 
again awakened within him, and he saw that he was 
not clear in the sight of immaculate Justice. He had 
given up his course of dishonesty; but he had not 
*8 



86 HISTORICAL ME2IOIES OP [1655. 

made restitution for that already committed. As he 
waited at " Wisdom's gate" for direction, it was made 
plain to his understanding that his covetousness — 
that which desired to retain the gain of iniquity — 
must be given up to die on the cross. He felt that 
all he had unjustly obtained, he must freely pay to 
the commissioners of excise, for the service of the 
commonwealth. This was a close trial to him, as it 
amounted to about one -half of all his outward sub- 
stance. What added to the trial was, that he was 
now not easy to remain any longer in the excise, 
and had a wife and five children to provide for. 

While he was in this tried condition of mind, 
George Fox was inwardly drawn to pay him a visit; 
and being partly informed by Humphrey of the strug- 
gles within him, he said to him, " He that confesseth, 
and forsaketh his sin, shall find mercy." Humphrey 
was made sensible that George's heart was raised up 
in prayer to the Lord on his behalf, and that the peti- 
tion found acceptance. He has left the following 
record of what followed : " The Lord reached down 
His right arm of power, touched my heart with His 
grace, and made me willing to submit to His will, 
and give up the sum of money I had received unjust- 
ly. Waiting in the Light, this was made plain to me, 
to be near one hundred and fifty pounds. But it lay 
on my heart, to restore more, rather than less. So 
I was made free by the power of the Lord, and did 
give back at the excise office, London, one hundred 
and sixty pounds. Then I felt the truth of the words 
George Fox spake to me : ' He that confesseth, and 
forsaketh his sin, shall find mercy ;' — for much ease, 
peace, and refreshment, I received into my soul." 

He now resigned his station in the customs, and 
recommenced business at his original trade, at the 
sign of the Snail in Tower street. 

A great care and dread came upon him, lest he 
should offend his Heavenly Father in word or deed. 
He now read some writings of the people called 



1655.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIEWDS. 87 

Quakers, and could unite with all he found. One of 
his acquaintance, who had frequented the meetings of 
this new Society, asked Humphrey what he thought 
of them ; saying that for his part, he did believe that 
what they declared, would stand, when all else fell. 
Then specifying one of their more obvious charac- 
teristics, he further queried of Humphrey, whether he 
did not believe that " thee" and " thou" to one parti- 
cular person, instead of the plural " you," was 
truth ? Humphrey acknowledged that he did. Then 
he rejoined, " If thou dost not come into obedience to 
what thou art convinced is truth, thou must come 
under condemnation." This also Humphrey acknow- 
ledged was true ; and continuing to follow, in obe- 
dience, the manifestations of the Light of Truth in 
his mind, he was brought to know it to be a " bridle 
to the tongue," and was strengthened to take up the 
cross in this respect, and soon afterwards in respect 
to the corrupt practice of putting off the hat in pre- 
tended honour of persons. This was the day of small 
things with him, which, as it was faithfully attended 
to, was to precede the days of greater experience in 
divine wisdom and usefulness ; but without which, he 
would not have been led on, as he afterwards was, 
from one step of Christian progress to another, so as 
to know his feet at length established on " the Rock 
of Ages." 

He was still at times under great temptations ; yet 
as he abode in watchfulness towards the Light, he 
was preserved from falling. But at times forsaking 
that, and letting " the old man with his deeds whicn 
are corrupt" gain the ascendancy, he made work 
for bitter repentance. The swift witness for God 
then followed him with His judgments, until he was 
made to abhor himself in the dust, and unite with 
the Lord's Spirit in condemnation of that which had 
lifted itself up against the reign of Christ in his soul. 
He patiently bore these judgments, and after a time 
received power to stand, in the hour of temptation, 



88 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1656. 

against the fiery darts of the adversary. Then he 
saw, that several things in his business as a gold- 
smith, were not acceptable to his divine Master — 
that in providing rings and trinkets to sell to proud 
and vain people, he was not serving Christ, but the 
great enemy of all righteousness; and he was at 
length, by the power of the same Grace that dis- 
covered the practice of selling them to be evil, re- 
deemed from that evil service. 

Humphrey now joined himself in membership with 
the new society, and in 1656 a regular meeting was 
opened at his house, which continued to be held there 
for several years. He was a good example to his 
brethren, faithfully suffering several imprisonments 
for his Christian principles; and died soon after being 
released from prison, in 1(562, from the effects of 
the hardships he had endured in his confinement for 
conscience sake. 



CHAPTER IX. 



ACCOUNT OF JAMES PARNEL, HE DIES IN PRISON, GEORGE 

FOX IMPRISONED IN LAUNCESTON JAIL. 

In the forepart of the year 1656 died James Par- 
nel, whose short history is of a very interesting 
character. He was born about the year 1638, at 
Retford in Nottinghamshire, and was educated in 
the schools of the neighbourhood, and in the common 
way of worship which was then prevalent. This 
did not however change his heart, or bring him from 
the corrupt state in which mankind are by nature, 
into a state of grace ; though he was often sensible 
of the secret reprovings of the Lord's Holy Spirit, 
in his solitary moments, and so clearly were life and 



1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 89 

death set before him at times, with a sense of the 
evil of his ways, that he would come to a resolu- 
tion to forsake the sins for which he felt condemned ; 
but this promise being made merely in the strength 
of his own will, it did not stand against temptation, 
and he made for himself fresh work for repentance. 
The judgments of the Almighty, nevertheless, fol- 
lowed him, and wrought true repentance in his soul ; 
and as a brand he was plucked from the fire, to be 
made a vessel of honour in the Lord's house. When 
he was fifteen years of age, he was led to see the 
emptiness and idolatrous nature of the worship of 
the world ; and George Fox being confined in Car- 
lisle Dungeon, he came to visit him, and was effec- 
tually convinced of the truth, and submitted to the 
operation thereof in his heart. The Lord, more and 
more perfecting his divine work in an obedient heart, 
quickly made him a powerful minister of the word 
of life. In his eighteenth year he was moved of his 
divine Master to go to Cambridge, where he testified 
boldly against the corrupt practices of the magis- 
trates and priests. For this he was shut up in pri- 
son, and after being there detained a considerable 
time, as his accusers could not substantiate any 
charge against him, he was violently thrust out of 
the town under the name of a rogue. He some time 
afterwards returned, and continued for about six 
months to preach the gospel in the neighbourhood of 
that city ; after which he passed into Essex, and was 
made an instrument to the conversion of many, and 
the great discomfiture of the priests. These, seeing 
that their craft was in imminent danger of being 
brought to naught, appointed a great meeting at 
Great Coggeshall in Essex, at which the people 
were " to fast and pray against the errors of the 
Quakers." James hearing of this, was pressed in 
spirit to attend the meeting, in order to defend the 
truth against the attacks of its adversaries. He 
stood still till the priest had finished his harangue, 



90 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1656. 

and then vindicated the cause of truth and his own 
right to speak there, in a masterly manner. They 
then bid him pull off his hat, and he declining to do 
so, told them that he would rather leave the house ; 
which he did, followed by many people. But as he 
was passing along the road to a friend's house, he 
was arrested, and after a frivolous examination be- 
fore four justices and six or seven priests, was com- 
mitted to the common jail at Colchester. From this 
he was taken to the assizes at Chelmsford, being 
chained to five felons, and thus dragged eighteen 
miles through the country, having a man arrested 
for murder joined to him on the chain. 

Being brought before the court, his hat was taken 
off his head, and thrown on the floor. The accusa- 
tions against him were, that in a riotous manner he 
entered into the " parish church " at Great Cogges- 
hall ; that he there stood up and told the minister, 
he blasphemed, and spoke falsely, and that he used 
other reproachful words against him : he was also 
charged with being an idle disorderly person, who 
could not give a good account of his residence, or 
of his life and conversation, and with a contempt of 
the magistracy and ministry. He replied, that he 
by no means entered into the steeple house in a riot- 
ous manner, but came thither quietly and alone ; for 
that several boys wishing to go in after him, he bade 
them go in before, rather than occasion any disturb- 
ance by entering in a disorderly manner : that he 
there stood very orderly, and quietly listened to their 
revilings of himself and his friends, till their priest 
had finished and was leaving his seat. He denied 
not that he had told Priest Willis that he blasphemed 
by saying "the church in God" (an expression James 
had used in the meeting-house,) was nonsense ; and 
he quoted 2d Thessal. i. 1, where the apostle address- 
es " the church of the Thessalonians, in God our 
Father and the Lord Jesus Christ." He asked them 
also to consider whether it w T as any more improper 



1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 91 

for a man to keep on his hat, than his shoe, or his 
glove, or whether this were not one of the vain cus- 
toms of pharisaical men, who seek honour one of 
another, and not the honour which cometh from God 
only. With respect to the charge of being an idle 
disorderly person, he told them that his life and 
conversation might speak for itself, and challenged 
any to accuse him of disorder ; adding that though 
he was not possessed of earthly property, yet he had 
a settlement in the Lord, where he had found a habi- 
tation, and was a labourer in the Gospel of God, in 
which none could tax him with idleness ; and that 
it was indeed his great labour and diligence in lay- 
ing open the delusions of deceivers and deceived 
men, that had l'aised up this persecution against him 
by those who loved to cherish those false prophets 
who would cry "peace, peace" when the word of 
the Lord would declare a *! woe !" Thus boldly did 
this enlightened youth defend his cause. But the 
judge overawed the jury, and endeavoured to make 
them find him guilty ; and when the rest of the jury 
would have acquitted him, the judge and the clerk 
endeavoured to draw forth expressions from their 
foreman, a notorious drunkard, not acquiesced in by 
his colleagues, to justify them in their determination, 
and finally sentenced him to pay a fine of about 
forty pounds, for contempt of the magistracy and 
ministry. This of course James could not pay con- 
sistently with his feelings of right, as he had com- 
mitted no crime, and his payment of it would have 
sanctioned their unjust assumption. He was there- 
upon led back to his prison, which was an old ruin- 
ous castle, said to have been built in the times of 
the ancient Romans. 

The jailor for a considerable time allowed no one 
to visit him, but such as came to abuse and beat 
him; and his wife not only set her servant man to 
beat him, but several times laid violent hands upon 
him herself, and swore that she would have his 



92 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656. 

blood. She also set other prisoners to take away 
the victuals which his friends provided for him ; 
and even denied him the comfort of a bed, which 
they wished to bring for his accommodation ; so that 
he was compelled to lie on the cold stones ; which, 
when the weather was damp, would run down with 
water. He was afterwards put into a place called 
" the hole in the wall," which appears to have been 
a vault, like a baker's oven, in the massive walls of 
that direful castle,* and w r as very high from the 
ground. There was a ladder placed under the 
mouth of this hole, by which he had to descend to 
obtain his food. But this ladder w r as too short by 
six feet, and he was under the necessity of raising 
himself into the hole from the top of the ladder, by 
catching hold of a rope. His friends wished to fur- 
nish him with a cord and basket, by which to draw 
up his victuals, but this the malice of his persecutors 
w ? ould not permit. By continual subjection to the 
damp cold air of this dungeon, his limbs became be- 
numbed; so that on one occasion, in climbing up 
with his victuals in one hand, and catching at the 
rope with the other from the top of the ladder, he 
missed his hold, and fell down upon the stones, and 
was so exceedingly wounded and bruised in his head 
and body, that he was taken up for dead. They 
then put him into a similar hole beneath, the other, 
called " the oven," so small that some bakers' ovens 
are more capacious. Here, when the door was shut, 
there was no orifice for ventilation or light, and 
after he w r as a little recovered from his accident they 
would not suffer him to take the air, even so much 
as by going to the door of the castle, though he was 
much exhausted by the close confinement. Some of 
his friends seeing the risk to which his life w r as ex- 
posed, offered to lie in prison for him if he could be 

* Thomas Scattergood visited this castle in 1796, saw the hole in 
which Jumes was coniined, and describes the walls as being about 
twelve feet thick. 



1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 93 

permitted but for a short time to be nursed at one of 
their houses ; but this also was refused by his ene- 
mies, who thirsted for his blood. And when, once 
that the door was left open, he ventured to breathe 
the air for a short time by walking in a narrow 
yard between two high walls, the jailer came in a 
great rage, locked up the hole where he usually lay, 
and shut him out in the yard all night, though it 
was in the coldest time of the winter. These con- 
tinued severities at length completely undermined 
his constitution, and brought on a mortal sickness. 
As he felt death approaching, he said to those around 
him, " Here I die innocently :" a little afterwards, 
" Now I must go ;" and turning to Thomas Short- 
land, he added, " This death I must die : Thomas, 
I have seen great things ; do not hold me, but let 
me go." Then he said again, " Will you hold me ?" 
meaning that he wished his friends freely to give 
him up, and not even to desire to retain him : to 
which one of them affectionately replied, " No, dear 
heart ! we will not hold thee." He had often said, 
that one hour's sleep would cure him of all : and the 
last words he was heard to utter, were, " Now I 
go ;" when he stretched himself out, and after sleep- 
ing about an hour, he breathed out his purified spirit 
to Him who had watched and inwardly supported 
him, during all his afflictions for His gospel's sake. 
He died in the nineteenth year of his age. 

About this time, George Fox was taken up, with 
Edward Pyot, and imprisoned in Launceston gaol, 
for many months. He had written, at Market-Jew, 
an address to the seven parishes at the Land's End 
in Cornwall, showing that Christ is indeed come to 
teach his people himself, and exhorting the people 
to take heed to the light of His Holy Spirit in their 
hearts, and prize the day of their visitation. One 
of these papers came into the hands of a servant of 
Major Ceely, a justice of the peace, who had George 
and his friends arrested, and carried bv a party of 

9 



94 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656. 

horsemen with swords and pistols, to Redruth. His 
own account, somewhat condensed, of this remark- 
able transaction, will give a clear view of the bold 
and fearless character of this remarkable man, and 
of the nature of that persecuting spirit by which he 
was assailed. 

At Redruth, he says " several of the town's people 
gathered about us ; and whilst I held the soldiers in 
discourse, Edward Pyot spoke to the people ; after- 
wards Edward Pyot held the soldiers in discourse, 
whilst 1 spoke to the people ; and in the mean time 
the other Friend got out and went to the steeple- 
house, to speak to the priest and people. The sol- 
diers missing him were in a great rage, ready to 
kill us ; but 1 declared the day of the Lord, and the 
word of eternal life to the people. In the afternoon, 
when we got to the town's end, I was moved of the 
Lord to go back, to speak to the old man of the 
house. The soldiers drew out their pistols, and 
swore I should not go back. I heeded them not; 
but rode back, and they rode after me. I cleared 
myself to the old man and the people, and then re- 
turned with them, and reproved them for being so 
rude. At night we were brought to Falmouth. 
There came into our inn the chief constable and 
many sober people, and a great deal of discourse we 
had with them concerning the things of God. Some 
of them were convinced, and stood faithful ever 
after. 

" Next morning, Captain Keat brought a kinsman 
of his, a rude, wicked man, and put him into the 
room, himself standing without. This man walking 
huffing up and down, I bid him fear the Lord. 
Whereupon he ran upon me, struck me with both 
his hands, and clapping his leg behind me, would 
have thrown me down ; but he could not, for I stood 
stiff and still, and let him strike. As I looked to- 
wards the door, I saw Captain Keat, and said, 
'Keat, dost thou allow this? He said, he did. 'Is 



1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 95 

this manly or civil,' said I, * to have us under a 
guard, and put a man to abuse and beat us V I de- 
sired one of our Friends to send for the constables, 
and then I told the captain he had broken his order ; 
for we were to be ' safely conducted ;' but he had 
brought a man to beat and abuse us ; so I wished 
the constable to keep the warrant. Accordingly he 
did, and told the soldiers they might go their way, 
for he would take charge of the prisoners, and they 
should not have the warrant again. They walked 
up and down the house, pitifully blank and down. 

" About the eleventh hour, upon the soldiers' en- 
treaty, and promise to be more civil, the constables 
gave them the order again, and we went with them. 
We met Major General Desborough on the way; 
the captain of his troop, that rode before him, knew 
me, and said, i Oh, Mr. Fox, what do you here V 
I told him I was taken up as I was travelling. 
i Then/ said he, ' I will speak to my lord, and he 
will set you at liberty.' So he rode up to the coach, 
and spoke to the major general. We also gave him 
an account how we were taken. He began to speak 
against the Light of Christ, for which I reproved him. 
Then he told the soldiers they might carry us to 
Launceston ; for he could not stay to talk with us, 
lest his horses should take cold. 

" So to Bodmin we were conveyed that night, and 
Captain Keat put me into a room, and went his way. 
When I was come in, there stood a man with a 
naked rapier (or sword) in his hand. I called for 
Captain Keat, and said, ' What now, Keat, what 
trick hast thou played now, to put me into a room 
where there is a man with his naked rapier 1 What 
is thy end in all this ]' * Oh,' said he, * pray hold 
your tongue ; for if you speak to this man, we can- 
not all rule him, he is so devilish.' * Then,' said I, 
' dost thou put me into a room where there is such a 
man with a naked rapier, that thou sayst, you can- 



96 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656. 

not rule him? What an unworthy, base trick is this I* 
Thus his plot was discovered. 

" Next day we were brought to Launceston, where 
Captain Keat delivered us to the gaoler. He required 
us to pay seven shillings a week for our horse meat, 
and seven shillings for our diet, a-piece. Then got up 
a great rage among the professors and priests ; and 
they said, 'We shall see when the assize comes, whe- 
ther they will dare to Thou and Thee the judge, and 
keep on their hats before him.' They expected we 
should be hanged at the assize. But all this was little 
to us ; for we saw how God would stain the world's 
honour and glory, and were commanded not to seek 
that honour, nor give it. 

"It was nine weeks from the time of our commit- 
ment, to the assizes, to which abundance of people 
came, from far and near, to hear the trial of the Qua- 
kers. Captain Bradden's soldiers and the sheriff's 
men guarded us up to the court through the multitude 
of people that filled the streets. The doors and win- 
dows were filled with people looking out upon us. 
When we were brought into the court, we stood a 
while with our hats on, and all was quiet. And I 
was moved to say, ' Peace be amongst you !' Judge 
Clynne, Chief Justice of England, said to us, * Why 
do you not put ofF your hats V We said nothing. 
1 Put off your hats,' said the judge again. Still we 
said nothing. Then said the judge, ' The court com- 
mands you to put oft* your hats.' Then I said, * When 
did ever any magistrate, king, or judge, from Moses 
to Daniel, command any to put off their hats when 
they came before them 1 And if the law of England 
doth command any such thing, show me that law.' 
Then the judge grew very angry, and said, ' I do not 
carry my law books on my back.' ' But/ said I, 'tell 
me where it is printed in any statute book, that I may 
read it.' Then said the judge, ' Take him away — 
prevaricator! VWferk him!' So they took us away, 
and put us among the thieves. Presently after he 



1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 97 

calls to the gaoler, * Bring them up again.' * Come,' 
said he, * where had they hats from Moses to Daniel ? 
Come, answer me ; I have you fast now.' I replied, 
8 Thou mayst read in the third of Daniel, that the three 
children were cast into the fiery furnace by Nebu- 
chadnezzar's command, with their coats, their hosen, 
and their hats on.' This plain instance stopped him : 
so that not having anything else to say to the point, 
he cried again, * Take them away, gaoler.' Accord- 
ingly we were thrust in among the thieves, where we 
were kept a great while ; and they came into the gaol 
to us, and violently took our books from us. 

" In the afternoon, we were had up again into the 
court, and I seeing the jurymen and others swearing, 
it grieved my life, that such as professed Christianity, 
should so openly disobey the command of Christ and 
the apostle ; and I was moved of the Lord to give 
forth to the jurors a paper against swearing, which I 
had about me. This paper passing among them, they 
presented it to the judge, who asked me, ' if that sedi- 
tious paper was mine.' I told him, * If they would 
read it up in open court, that I might hear it, if it was 
mine, I would own it.' He would have had me take 
it, and look upon it in my own hand : but I again 
desired that it might be read, that all might hear it, 
and judge whether there was any sedition in it. At 
last the clerk read it with an audible voice ; and then 
I told them it was my paper : I would own it, and so 
might they too, except they would deny the Scripture. 
They let fall that subject, and the judge fell upon us 
about our hats again, bidding the gaoler take them 
off; which he did, and gave them to us ; and we put 
them on again, and asked the judge and justices, what 
we had lain in prison for these nine weeks, seeing they 
now objected nothing to us but about our hats : an 
honour which men seek one of another, but which 
God would lay in the dust ; and we requested them to 
do us justice for our long imprisonment. But they 
brought in a strange indictment, which they had 

9* 



98 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656. 

framed, full of lies, as, that we came 'by force and 
arms, and in a hostile manner, into the court !' I told 
them it was false : being taken up in our journey with- 
out cause by Major Ceely. Then Peter Ceely said, 
'May it please you, my lord, this man (pointing to 
me), went aside with me, and told me how service- 
able I might be for his design ; that he could raise 
forty thousand men at an hour's warning, and involve 
the nation in blood, and so bring in King Charles, 
[who was then in exile]. I have a witness to swear 
it; and called his witness. But I desired that my 
mittimus, in which my crime was signified, might be 
read in the face of the court. The judge said, it should 
not be read. I said, ' it ought to be, seeing it con- 
cerned my liberty and life/ The judge said again, 
' it shall not be read.' But I said, ' it ought to be 
read ; for if I have done anything worthy of death or 
of bonds, let all the country know it.' Then seeing 
they would not read it, I said to one of my fellow- 
prisoners, ' Thou hast a copy of it, read it up.' ' It 
shall not be read,' said the judge, 'gaoler, take him 
away, I will see whether he or 1 shall be master.' 
So I was taken away, and a little while after called 
again. I still cried to have my mittimus read, which 
signified the cause of my commitment, and again 
spoke to my fellow-prisoner to read it. He did read 
it, and the judge, justices, and whole court were 
silent ; for the people were eager to hear it." 

This paper was signed by Peter Ceely, justice of 
the peace, and charged G. Fox and his friends with 
acknowledging themselves to be Quakers, spreading 
abroad papers tending to disturbance of the peace, 
with travelling without any pass, or rendering any 
lawful reason, and with refusing to give sureties for 
their good behaviour, or to take the oath of abjura- 
tion, &c. 

" When it was read, I said to the judge and justices, 
'You know that if I had put in sureties, I might have 
gone whither I pleased, and carried on the design (if 



1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 99 

I had one), which Major Ceely hath charged me with. 
And if I had spoken those words to him, judge ye 
whether bail could have been taken in that case.' 
Then turning to Ceely, I said, ' When or where did I 
take thee aside \ Was not thy house full of rude peo- 
ple, and thou as rude as any of them 1 But if thou 
art my accuser, why sittest thou on the bench ? This 
is not a place for thee to sit in, for accusers do not 
use to sit with the judge : thou oughtest to come down 
and stand by me, and look me in the face. Besides, 
I would ask whether or not Major Ceely is not guilty 
of this treason, which he charges against me, in con- 
cealing it so long ? For he tells you here, that 1 went 
aside, and told him how serviceable he might be for 
my design — that I could raise 40,000 men, &c. He 
saith moreover, he would have aided me out of the 
country, but I would not go, and therefore he com- 
mitted me. Now do you not see that Major Ceely is 
guilty of this plot and treason, and hath made himself 
a party to it, by desiring me to go out of the country, 
and not charging me with this pretended treason till 
now 1 But I deny and abhor his words, and am inno- 
cent of his devilish design. So the judge saw clearly 
that instead of ensnaring me he had ensnared himself. 

" Major Ceely then got up again, and said, * if it 
please you my lord, this man struck me, and gave me 
such a blow as I never had in my life.' At this I said, 
' Major Ceely, thou art a justice of the peace and a 
major of a troop of horse, and tellest the judge here, 
that I (a prisoner) struck thee. What, art thou not 
ashamed '( Where did I strike thee, 1 and who is thy 
witness V He said, Captain Bradden was his witness. 
Then I said, ' Speak, Captain Bradden, didst thou see 
me give him such a blow^ V But Captain Bradden 
made no answer: and the judge finding those snares 
would not hold, fined us twenty marks a-piece, for not 
taking ofF our hats, and to be kept in prison till we 
paid it. 

" At night, Captain Bradden came to see us, and 



100 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656. 

seven or eight justices with him, who were very civil, 
and told us they did believe neither the judge nor any 
in the court gave credit to those charges which Ceely 
had brought forward ; and Bradden said, that Ceely 
had an intent to take my life, if he could have got 
another witness. 

" Now we were kept in prison ; and not being likely 
to be soon released, we broke off from giving the 
gaoler seven shillings a- week a- piece for our horses, 
and the same for ourselves, and sent our horses 
into the country. On which he grew very wicked, 
and put us down into Doomsdale, a nasty, stinking 
place where they put murderers after they were 
condemned. The place was so noisome, that it was 
observed, few ever came out again in health. The 
filth collected had not been carried out (as we were 
told) for many years ; so that it was all like mire, 
and in some places to the top of the shoes in water 
and filth ; and he w^ould not let us cleanse it, nor have 
beds or straw to lie on. At night, some friendly 
people of the town brought us a candle and a little 
straw, and we went to burn a little of our straw, to 
take away the stench. The thieves lay over our 
heads, and the head gaoler in a room by them, over 
.our heads also. It seems the smoke went up into the 
room where the gaoler lay ; which put him in such a 
rage, that he took the most filthy matter he could col- 
lect in the thieves' room, and poured it through a hole 
upon our heads ; whereby we were so bespattered, 
that we could not touch ourselves nor one another, 
and had like to have been smothered. We had the 
stench under our feet before, but now we had it on our 
heads and backs also ; and he having quenched our 
straw with what he poured dowm, had made a great 
smother in the place. Moreover, he railed at us most 
hideously, calling us hatchet-faced dogs, and such 
strange names as we never heard of. In this manner 
we had to stand all night, for we could not sit down, 
the place was so full of filth. A great while he kept 



1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 101 

us after this manner, before he would let us cleanse it, 
or suffer us to have any victuals but what we had 
through the grate; and we had much ado to get 
water or victuals. 

" This head-gaoler, we were informed, had been a 
thief, and both he and the under-gaoler had been burnt 
in the hand and shoulder, and their wives had also 
both been burnt in the hand. 

" The quarter sessions drew nigh, and we drew up 
our suffering case, and sent it to the sessions ; upon 
which the justices ordered, that Doomsdale door 
should be opened, and that we should have liberty to 
cleanse it, and to buy our meat in the town. We 
also sent up a copy to the Protector, [Oliver Crom- 
well] whereupon he sent down an order to the gover- 
nor of Pendennis Castle, to examine the matter about 
the soldiers abusing us, and striking me. One of the 
Protector's chaplains told him, they could not do 
George Fox a greater service for the spreading of his 
principles in Cornwall, than to imprison him there. 
And indeed my imprisonment w r as for the Lord's ser- 
vice in those parts. The Lord's light and truth broke 
forth, shined over all, and many were turned from 
darkness to light, and from Satan's power to God. A 
great convincement began in the country ; for now 
we had liberty to walk in the Castle-green ; and divers 
people came to us on First-days, to whom we de- 
clared the word of life." 

These innocent sufferers were at length released 
from prison on the 1 3th of the Seventh month of this 
year, having been confined about six months, during 
which time their health appears to have been preserved 
in a wonderful manner. 



102 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656, 



CHAPTER X. 

THE CONVINCEMENT, MINISTRY, AND FALL OF JAMES 
NAYLER HIS REPENTANCE AND DEATH. 

The cruelties which Friends suffered about this 
time, for their faithful adherence to what was made 
known to them as their religious duty, were indeed 
excessive, and if mentioned in detail would fill many 
volumes.* They had also this year the additional 
affliction of a falling away from among their own 
ranks, of some, who, through unwatchfulness and 
spiritual pride, lost their way, and were taken in the 
snares of the enemy. 

The occasion of this new trial to the church, was 
the excessive adulation paid by some to James Nay- 
ler, which, in an unguarded hour, got the better of his 
judgment, and carried him along with them to great 
and sorrowful extravagancies. He was born at 
Ardsley, in Yorkshire, about the year 1616, or '18, and 
during the civil wars served as quarter-master in the 
army of the Parliament under General Lambert. He 
was by profession an Independent, and was convinced 
of the truth of the principles of Friends by George 
Fox, near Wakefield, in the year 1651 ; and being a 
man of comprehensive intellect, though of limited edu- 
cation, he brought into the service of the Society a 
great ability for being useful; especially as in the 
first period of his uniting with Friends, he exhibited 
ah extraordinary gift of holy wisdom and humility. 
The year after his convincement, he believed himself 
bound in religious duty, to leave his habitation, and 
travel in the service of the ministry, in the north-west- 
ern parts of England. He suffered much personal 
abuse in Lancashire, in company with George Fox, 
and was imprisoned about twenty weeks at Appleby, 
for having said that Christ was in him, (in accordance 

* See Besse's "Sufferings of Friends." 



1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 103 

with the apostle's doctrine : " know ye not that Jesus 
Christ is in you, except ye be reprobates." 2 Corinth, 
xiii. 5) — and that there is but one Word of God, even 
He that "was made flesh and dwelt among us." 
This, his enemies, the priests, construed into blasphe- 
my, being afraid that if the sentiments promulgated 
by Friends, should be permitted to gain ground, " the 
craft by which they had their wealth would be set at 
naught." 

After the termination of his imprisonment, James 
Nayler resumed his travels in the service of the min- 
istry, and at length, in the year 1654, came to Lon- 
don. He declares that he entered that city with the 
greatest fear that had ever been his experience on 
entering any place; foreseeing in spirit that something 
would befal him in it, but not knowing what it was 
to be. 

Edward Burrough and Francis Howgill, who had 
been fellow prisoners of his at Appleby, had been the 
means, as before observed, of gathering a congrega- 
tion of Friends in London ; but Nayler now preach- 
ing there with eminent power, many of his admirers 
began to draw comparisons between him and his 
brethren in the ministry ; and about the year 1 656, 
some inconsiderate women thus undervaluing bur- 
rough and Howgill, presumed to disturb them in their 
public ministry. Being reproved by the two minis- 
ters, they endeavoured, though at first unsuccessfully, 
to enlist the feelings of James Nayler in their favour. 
But James, having too deep an understanding of the 
soundness of his brethren's judgment, was not for- 
ward to condemn them ; whereupon one of these 
deluded persons, named Martha Simmons, fell into a 
kind of paroxysm, and exclaimed with a shrill, pierc- 
ing voice, " I looked for judgment, but behold a cry !" 
— accompanying her words with such bitter lamenta- 
tions, that poor James, too easily yielding to feelings 
of compassion, instead of rebuking her folly, became 
not only the dupe of her violent grief and of that of 



104 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1656. 

her associates, but was also further led aside by their 
flattery. From one step to another he at length ar- 
rived at such a height of spiritual pride, as to hear, 
even with a secret feeling of complacency, the wild- 
est adulation of this woman, and of the other enthusi- 
astic females who surrounded him. Among them 
was one Hannah Stranger, who, it is said, addressed 
to him several very wild and preposterous epistles ; 
calling him " the everlasting Son of righteousness — 
the Prince of Peace — the fairest among ten thousand, 
&c. :" and she, together with some of the others, in 
their fanatical folly, would kneel before him and kiss 
his feet. 

This was a time of great darkness, as James after- 
wards acknowledged. And " if the light that is in 
you be darkness, how great is that darkness !" It is 
remarkable that he declared it to have been his fear 
of opposing what might be right in his partizans, that 
prevented him from rebuking their extravagancies ; 
and having lost the spirit of discernment, he was in a 
situation to accept almost any thing for the truth, 
more especially that which was gratifying to the 
natural feelings. He went to Bristol, accompanied 
by his frantic admirers, and after making a disturb- 
ance there, he was proceeding towards Launceston, 
in order to meet with George Fox, (for what purpose 
it does not appear) when he was stopped by the way 
and imprisoned at Exeter. George Fox being released 
on the 13th of the Seventh month from Launceston 
gaol, went to Exeter and warned James Nayler ; 
who, however, slighted his advice, though he testified 
afFectionate feelings towards his friend. But the 
unflinching integrity of George Fox would not 
allow him to receive his proffered salute while 
mixed with so much wilful error ; and he rejected it 
with the remark, that since James had turned against 
the power of God, he would not receive his show of 
kindness. " The Lord," says he, " moved me to 
slight him, and to set the power of God over him. I 



1656.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS, 105 

admonished him and his company ; and when he was 
come to London, his resisting the power of God in 
me, and the truth that was declared to him by me, 
became one of his greatest burdens. " 

After his release from Exeter prison, James Nayler 
rode into Bristol, accompanied by his wild disciples ; 
one of whom, named Thomas Woodcock, went bare- 
headed before him, whilst one of the women led his 
horse ; Martha Simmons, Hannah Stranger, and 
others, spreading their scarfs and handkerchiefs before 
him, and the whole company shouting Hosanna ! &c. 
in imitation of the manner of the entry of Christ into 
Jerusalem. It was to be expected that so extrava- 
gant an act should attract the notice of the police, and 
judgment of the magistrates. The procession had 
scarcely passed the suburbs, before they were all 
apprehended, and put in prison ; and soon afterwards, 
James was taken to London to be examined by the 
Parliament. 

The fall of this eminent man was eagerly seized 
upon as a favourable opportunity for aiming a blow at 
the rising Society of Friends. Many of the mem- 
bers of Parliament were strict adherents to the set- 
tled forms of religion, but enemies to its true spirit ; 
and could not tolerate the simplicity of the principles 
of Friends, because of the severe reproofs thereby 
administered to their own system of notions, and 
head-knowledge ; and their animosity against the 
Society being afresh excited, they treated their 
victim with the greater severity, not caring to 
discern that his crime was a departure from the 
purity of his profession. The house took up the sub- 
ject on the 30th of w T hat was called November, 1656, 
and the report of the committee was received on the 
fifth of the following month. On the 1 6th, the business 
was brought before it for the twelfth time, after having 
been discussed, forenoon and afternoon in the interim, 
many members not approving the severity proposed 

10 



108 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1658. 

to be used against him. A motion was made that the 
punishment should be death ; but this was lost by a 
vote of eighty- two to ninety- six; and after a long 
debate, on the 17 th they came to the following reso- 
lution, viz. " That James INayler be set on the pil- 
lory, with his head in the pillory, in the palace-yard, 
Westminster, during the space of two hours, on 
Thursday next; and be whipped by the hangman 
through the streets, from Westminster to the Old Ex- 
change, London ; and there likewise be set on the 
pillory, with his head in the pillory, for the space of 
two hours, between the hours of eleven and one, on 
Saturday next ; in each place wearing a paper con- 
taining a description of his crimes : that at the Old 
Exchange, his tongue be bored through with a hot iron ! 
and that he be there also stigmatized on the forehead 
with the letter B. ; that he be afterwards sent to 
Bristol, and be conveyed into, and through the said 
city on horseback, with his face backward ; and there 
also publicly whipt, the next market day after he 
comes thither ; that from thence, he be committed to 
prison, in Bridewell, London ; be there restrained 
from the society of all people ; and there to labour 
hard, till he shall be released by parliament ; and 
during that time, be debarred the use of pen, ink, and 
paper, and have no relief but what he earns by his 
daily labours." 

This sentence was considered by the public, to be 
too severe a judgment on a man whose sin seemed 
more the result of a clouded understanding, than of 
depraved intentions ; and accordingly several persons 
of different persuasions in religion, offered petitions to 
the parliament on his behalf; which petitions it was 
resolved not to read, till the sentence was pronounced 
against him. James was denied the liberty of offering 
anything in arrest of judgment, and when he remark- 
ed, as the speaker was about to pronounce sentence, 
that " he did not know his offence," he was briefly 
answered, " that he should know his offence bv his 






1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 107 

punishment." He received the sentence with great 
calmness, and was heard to say with a composed 
manner, " 1 pray God he may not lay it to your 
charge." 

On the day appointed, he suffered the first part of 
his punishment. He remained two hours exposed in 
the pillory, and was then stripped, and being fastened 
to a cart, was dragged through the streets, receiving 
three hundred and ten strokes of the whip. The 
patience with which he sustained this severe treat- 
ment, astonished many, especially when they beheld 
the pitiable condition of his poor lacerated body, 
which was suffered to go two hours without the 
opportunity of being dressed, and on which, accord- 
ing to a certificate presented to parliament, " there 
was not the space of a man's nail free from stripes 
and blood, from his shoulders near to his waist !" 

Two days after this, he was to have undergone the 
further punishment of being again put. in the pillory, 
of being branded in the forehead, and having his 
tongue burnt through with a hot iron ; but he was 
found to be so much exhausted by the severity of that 
cruel whipping, that several persons of note, not 
members of the Society of Friends, moved with com- 
miseration of his pitiable condition, interceded with 
his judges, and obtained from parliament a respite of 
one week. In the mean time, another petition, nume- 
rously signed, was presented at the bar of the house, 
by about one hundred of the signers, in which they 
used the following expressions : 

" Your moderation and clemency, in respiting the 
punishment of James Nayler, in consideration of his 
illness of body, hath refreshed the hearts of many 
thousands, altogether unconcerned in his practice : — 
wherefore we most humbly beg your pardon, that are 
constrained to appear before you in such a suit, (not 
daring to do otherwise,) that you w^ould remit the 
remaining part of your sentence against the said 
James Nayler, leaving him to the Lord, and to such 



108 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656. 

gospel remedies as He hath sanctified ; and we are 
persuaded you will find such a course of love and for- 
bearance more effectual to reclaim, and will leave a 
seal of your love and tenderness upon our spirits," &c. 

This petition was followed by one addressed to 
Oliver Cromwell, the Protector ; which occasioned 
him to send a message to the house for information 
respecting their proceedings on the subject ; but the 
only result was empty discussion, the majority of the 
parliament appearing determined to make the most of 
this case, and some even disposed to carry their seve- 
rity to the extent of taking the life of their victim. 
A delegation of five professed ministers of religion 
was sent to confer with him, who refused to allow 
any witness to be present at their interview. James, 
being alarmed at this, declined saying any thing to 
them, unless what was said should be written down, 
and a copy, signed by themselves, should be left either 
with him or with the keeper of the prison where he 
was confined. To this they agreed ; but after con- 
siderable discourse, and James taxing them with 
seeking to ensnare him, they rose up in a fret, burned 
what had been written, and left him. It would seem 
by what James Nayler afterwards related of this inter- 
view, and his replies to them, that he, poor man, u as 
still, in some degree, under the power of that delu- 
sion which had brought him into these sufferings ; for 
he was not prepared to acknowledge that the extrav- 
agant behaviour of his fanatical followers should have 
been reproved by him. He attempted to palliate their 
falling down before him, by the supposition that it 
was intended as an act of homage, not to him as a 
creature, but to the power of Christ which they be- 
lieved to be manifest in him. 

On the 27th of the month, he was conveyed from 
New r gate to the Old Exchange, where he was again 
exposed in the pillory, and suffered the boring oi his 
tongue with a red-hot iron, (which w r as held for a 
short time in his tongue, that the bystanders might 



1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 109 

witness the fact,) and also the branding with a red 
hot iron on the forehead, until smoke arose from the 
burning flesh ! All this he bore with wonderful pa- 
tience, and it would seem that compassion had been 
excited by his sufferings, in the public mind; for though 
many thousands were said to be assembled on the 
occasion, yet few were observed to revile him, or 
throw any thing at him while in the pillory ; and while 
he was undergoing the burning on the forehead, the 
people, as if with one simultaneous emotion, stood 
bare-headed. 

After this, he was sent to Bristol, to undergo the 
remainder of his punishment ; where he was whipped 
through the streets ; and finally was returned to Lon- 
don, and kept in prison until the summer of i 658. 

It may well be supposed ihat so great a fall in an 
esteemed member amongst Friends, would be cause of 
triumph to their numerous enemies. Such indeed was 
the case ; and desiring to make what was bad still 
worse, the vilest calumnies were also set afloat against 
his moral character. From these, however, he was 
enabled fully to clear himself. His transgressions had 
their origin in spiritual pride, excited by the adulation 
of weak fanatics, and turned to the purpose of his 
destruction by the adversary of his soul, who goeth 
about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour, 
and as an envious, cunning serpent, seeking whom he 
may betray. But though this wanderer from the 
flock had so grievously missed his way, and fallen 
among thieves, he was mercifully followed, by the 
reclaiming, redeeming pow r er of Israel's Shepherd. 
During the solitude afforded by his close confinement, 
his mind was more and more softened ; and as the 
mists of error faded away under the reviving power 
of the Sun of Righteousness, he felt the healing virtue 
of his Saviour's wing, and was enabled to pour forth, 
in many touching effusions, the penitence of his soul. 

On his liberation, which occurred very soon after 
the death of Oliver Cromwell, about the Seventh 

10* 



110 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1658. 

month, 1659, he went to Bristol, the chief scene of 
his offence ; in which city, in a public meeting, he 
made a confession of his fault in so affecting a man- 
ner, as to draw tears from most of those who were 
present, and to occasion his reconciliation with many 
who had been estranged from him. The following 
expressions, forming part of a paper addressed by 
him to Friends, feelingly set forth his sincere repent- 
ance. 

" Dear brethren," says he, " my heart is broken 
this day for the offence that I have occasioned to 
God's truth and people, and especially to you, who 
in dear love followed me, seeking me in faithfulness to 
God ; which I rejected, being bound wherein 1 could 
not come forth, till God's hand brought me, to whose 
love I now confess. Unless the Lord himself keep 
you from me, I beseech you let nothing else hinder 
your coming to me, that 1 might have your help in 
the Lord. Jn the mercies of Christ Jesus, this I beg 
of you, as if it was your own case : let me not be 
forgotten by you. iVnd I entreat you to speak to 
whoever I have most offended ; and by the power of 
God, and in the Spirit of Christ Jesus, I am willing to 
confess the offence ; that God's love may arise in all 
hearts as before, if it be his will, who only can remove 
what stands in the w ay ; and nothing thereof do I 
intend to cover ; God is witness." 

And in another paper, after giving praise to the 
Lord Jesus Christ, his Saviour, and the rock of his 
salvation, who had lifted him out of the pit, delivered 
him from darkness, and given quietness and patience 
to his soul, he adds : " But condemned for ever be all 
those false worships, with which any have idolized 
my person in the night of my temptation, when the 
power of darkness was above. All their casting of 
their clothes in the way, their bowings and singings, 
and all the rest of those wild actions which did any 
ways tend to dishonour the Lord, or draw the minds 
of any from the measure of Christ Jesus in themselves, 



1669.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIEXD3. Ill 

to look at flesh, or ascribe that to the visible, which 
belongs to Christ Jesus, all that I condemn. Ard all 
those ranting, wild spirits, which gathered about rrre 
in that time of darkness, and all their w r ild actions, 
and wicked w^ords against the honour of God and his 
pure Spirit and people, I deny that bad spirit, the 
power and the w T orks thereof. And as far as I gave 
advanta-je, through want of judgment, for that evil 
spirit in any to arise, I take shame to myself justly." 

In another paper, relating how^ he w r as betrayed 
into this snare, he instructively attributes it in great 
measure to his ** not minding to stand single and 
low ;" and there can be no doubt that if he had kept 
humbly on the w r atch, with his eye single to the 
divine Light and Leader, he would have been pre- 
served blameless by the same power that so livingly 
sent him forth at first to preach His gospel. But 
" there is joy in Heaven over one sinner that repent- 
eth ;" and there is joy also in the church over the 
healing virtue of that divine love in Christ Jesus, the 
holy unction of which is often effectual for the restora- 
tion of the diseased and crippled members to life, and 
health, and unity once more with the body. George 
Whitehead, who knew James Nayler well, testifies of 
his latter days, that " he was revived by the Lord's 
power, and in measure restored to his ancient testi- 
mony, and to bear the same publicly, as the Lord 
enabled him, both in ministry and writings ; and he 
walked in much brotherly love and simplicity among 
us, until his end came." 

He lived rather more than two years after his libe- 
ration from prison, and spent his time in great self- 
denial and watchfulness. Departing from London, 
towards the latter part of the summer of 1600, for 
the purpose of visiting his family in Yorkshire, he 
was seen by a Friend at Hertford, sitting by the road- 
side, in a very solemn and retired frame of spirit. 
This Friend invited him to his house ; but he expressed 
a wish to proceed. In passing on foot through Hun- 



112 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1660. 

tingdon, he was observed by another Friend to be in 
a particularly solid frame of mind, like one who felt 
himself to be a stranger in the earth, and seeking a 
better and an enduring inheritance. Soon after this, 
he was found towards evening by a countryman, very 
ill, on a field, near King's Kippon, having (as it was 
supposed) been robbed and personally abused. He- 
was taken to a Friend's house, and attended by a phy- 
sician, but gradually sunk away. He expressed his 
love for Friends, and to those around him he said, 
" You have refreshed my body — the Lord refresh 
your souls !" About two hours before his decease, 
he uttered, among others, the following heavenly 
expressions, evincing in a consolatory manner, his 
restoration to the divine favour : " There is a spirit 
which 1 feel, that deliuhts to do no evil, nor to revenge 
any wrong ; but delights to endure all things, in hope 
to enjoy its own in the end. Its hope is to outlive all 
wrath and contention, and to weary out all exaltation 
and cruelty, or whatever is of a nature contrary to 
itself. Its crown is meekness ; its life is everlasting 
love unfeigned. It takes its kingdom with entreaty, 
and keeps it by lowliness of mind. In God alone it 
can rejoice. 1 have fellowship therein, with those 
who lived in dens and desolate places in the earth ; 
who through death obtained this resurrection, and 
eternal holy life !" He quietly departed, about the 
44th year of his age. 

Such was the career of James Nayler, and such 
his peaceful close. Awfully instructive was his fall, 
as a warning to all to beware of that spirit which 
would lift us up above the pure teachings of the 
" still small voice" in the secret recesses of the heart. 
And sweetly edifying is it also to dwell on the depth 
and riches of that redeeming love which raised the 
poor soul from the horrible pit, and set his feet upon 
a rock, and put a new song into his mouth, even 
praises to his great and gracious Lord. 






1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 113 



CHAPTER XI. 



FIRST VISITS OF FRIENDS TO AMERICA — CRUEL FERSECU* 
TIONS IN NEW ENGLAND, ETC. 

This eventful year to the Society of Friends (1056) 
was also remarkable as being the era of the first 
arrival of any of the ministers of the Society on the 
continent of America. 

Mary Fisher, a young woman of about thirty years 
of age, and Anne Austin, who had a husband and five 
children residing in London, were, in 1H55, travelling 
together in the ministry of the Gospel in the island of 
Barbadoes; and in the spring of 1050, they sailed for 
Boston, under a concern of mind to spread the doc- 
trines of the true spiritual religion among the high 
professing, but priest-ridden and intolerant inhabitants 
of Massachusetts Bay. Nearly twenty years before 
this, Rhode-Island had been purchased from the Nar- 
ragansett Indians for fifty fathoms of beads, and set- 
tled by a colony from Boston, who had left the latter 
town in disgust at the attempts made to introduce by 
force, a system of religious uniformity. Many of 
these original colonists of Rhode Island afterwards 
became Friends, and afforded a quiet resting-place 
for the poor persecuted members of the Society, 
when whipped or banished out of the adjoining 
patent. 

Anne Austin and her companion arrived at Boston 
in the Fifth month, and their arrival was quickly 
announced to the deputy-governor; who in his zeal 
to prevent any inroads on the settled religious opin- 
ions of the colony, commanded that they should be 
closely confined on board the ship that brought them, 
and that their books should be burned by the common 



114 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656. 

executioner, under the vague and false charge of her- 
esy and blasphemy. The council also ordered that 
the women should be closely imprisoned, and that the 
captain of the ship should give security, on pain of 
imprisonment, to convey them back speedily to Bar- 
badoes, at his own cost. So fearful were those big- 
oted people of the light of truth to discover their false 
opinions and evil deeds. 

Being brought on shore, these harmless and inno- 
cent women were closely confined, and a penalty of 
five pounds threatened against any one who should 
even speak to them through the window of their pri- 
son. The window indeed was afterwards boarded 
up, and their pens, ink and paper were taken from 
them, to prevent any communication with the citi- 
zens. Their persecutors now raised the cry of witch- 
craft, doubtless with the hope of putting them to the 
same death as had already been meted out to two 
women a short time previous. Finding no overt act 
as evidence of this unfounded charge, they scrupled 
not to examine the persons of their prisoners, in a 
cruel and indecent manner, to see if there were no 
mark of witchcraft upon them, under the popular 
superstitious notion that some unusual sign was set 
upon the bodies of those who had thus sold themselves 
to satan. Their enemies now refused to supply them 
with food, or allow it to be brought to them by the 
citizens ; but an aged inhabitant, touched with com- 
passion for their suiferings, bribed the jailor to allow 
him privately to furnish them with provisions. 

After an imprisonment of nearly five weeks, they 
were shipped back to Barbadoes under strict <ruard. 
But scarcely had these two ministers of the Gospel 
sailed from the port, when a vessel arrived from Lon- 
don, bringing eight others, viz. ; four men and four 
women. These also were immediately seized, car- 
ried before the court then sitting, and subjected to a 
long and frivolous examination Their trunks on 
board the vessel were searched i4 for erroneous books 



1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 115 

and hellish pamphlets/' During their examination 
they stedfastly maintained that the Scriptures were 
not the main or only guide of life, and that the " more 
sure word of prophecy," mentioned by Peter, (2 
Peter, i. 19) was the eternal Word and sure guide to 
which we are to take heed. Sentence of banishment 
was pronounced upon them, and they were directed 
to be kept close prisoners, without paper or ink, and 
all communication forbidden with the citizens, until 
they could be returned by the same ship that brought 
them thither ; the captain being also imprisoned for 
four days, to induce him to give bond to take them 
back at his own charge. 

All that had hitherto been done against Friends, 
w r as without even the shadow of law ; for they had 
been seized before setting their feet in the country, 
and thus prevented, even if so disposed, from violating 
any of the laws of the colony. But their persecutors 
now framed a law to sanction their past and future 
arbitrary proceedings, in which the " cursed sect of 
heretics, commonly called Quakers," were severely 
denounced, and all captains of vessels knowingly 
bringing any of them into the colony, were made lia- 
ble to a fine of one hundred pounds, or to be thrown 
into prison till paid, and were to give security to 
carry them back to the place whence they should 
have come. It was further enacted, that any Quaker 
who should arrive should be forthwith committed to 
the house of correction, be severely whipped, and 
kept constantly at work, without being allowed to 
speak with any one during his or her imprisonment. 
The rest of the law was of the same spirit, providing 
for the punishment of any who should possess Friends' 
books, or advocate their principles. After it was 
passed, it was proclaimed through the streets by beat 
of drum. Nicholas Upshall, the aged inhabitant 
who had supplied Anne Austin and Mary Fisher with 
food, became much interested in Friends and in their 
principles ; and when this law was proclaimed before 



116 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657. 

his door, he publicly testified, his disapprobation of it. 
For this offence he was cited before the court, where 
he spoke in much tenderness, but warned them to 
" take heed lest they should be found fighting against 
God." He was fined, imprisoned, and banished from 
Boston patent. This venerable jn an took refuge in 
Sandwich : but the governor of Plymouth patent for- 
bade the inhabitants of Sandwich to offer him shelter, 
and directed him to be brought before him at Ply- 
mouth. These tyrannical proceedings, both at Boston 
and elsewhere, had the good effect of opening the 
eyes of some, to see the inconsistency of the rulers' 
conduct with the precepts of the Gospel, and tended 
to prepare the sincere -hearted among the people for 
sympathizing with the oppressed, and receiving with 
openness the doctrines of Friends, which, notwith- 
standing all these attempts to suppress them, were 
more or less spread abroad in the country. The 
eight Friends above mentioned were, on the passing 
of the new law, hurried on ship-board, to be convey- 
ed away ; and as all their bedding had been seized 
for the jailors' fees, some of the inhabitants of the 
neighbourhood, affected at the idea of these inno- 
cent sufferers being obliged to take such a voy- 
age without bedding to rest upon, subscribed a sum 
of money, and redeemed their goods for them out of 
the hands of the jailer. Such was the reception which 
Friends met with on first setting foot in New Eng- 
land, from a people who professed that for the sake 
of liberty of conscience, they had left their native land 
for a home in the wilderness of North America. 
This however, as will presently be seen, was but the 
beginning of a persecution, which did not stop until it 
had, on the gallows, taken the lives of several of these 
devoted people. 

The next Friends who came to Boston were again 
two females; Anne Burden and Mary Dyer; who 
arrived early in the year 1057, without knowledge of 
the cruelties which had been already exercised, or of 



1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 117 

the law which had been passed to sanction still fur- 
ther inflictions. The former of these women came 
over to collect debts due to the estate of her deceased 
husband, with whom she had formerly resided in the 
neighbourhood of Boston ; and Mary Dyer was on 
her way to join her husband in Rhode Island. Both 
had probably become convinced of the principles of 
Friends in England. They were now seized by the 
authorities of Boston, and kept close prisoners, until 
Mary Dyer's husband came from Rhode Island, and 
became bound in a great penalty to take her away 
from the colony, without suffering any to speak with 
her ; and Anne Burden, without being suffered, to 
complete the business which had brought her over, 
and having received but six shillings of the debts due 
to her, was, after an imprisonment of three months, 
conveyed by the common hangman on board the ves- 
sel which had brought her from London. 

Of the eight Friends above mentioned, who were 
sent away from Boston in 1656, six found it to be their 
religious duty the next year to return to America, and 
were joined by five others. They came over in a small 
vessel owned and commanded by Robert Fowler, 
making a company of twelve zealous advocates for 
the truth as it is in Jesus; and were remarkably 
guided and protected by their divine Master on the 
arduous voyage, As the}^ came to land, which was 
on the same day on which Humphrey Norton, one of 
their company, had early in the voyage mentioned 
that he believed they should arrive, "the power of the 
Lord," to use their own language, " fell upon them, 
and an invisible word came to them, that the seed 
of America should be as the sand of the sea." Sev- 
eral of them went ashore at New Amsterdam, (now 
New York,) and two of them, viz., Robert Fowler 
and Robert Hodgson, visited the governor, who re- 
ceived them civilly. Two others of their company, 
however, viz., Mary Weatherhead and Dorothy 
Waugh, for delivering Christian exhortations to the 

11 



118 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657. 

people, were committed to prison, and separately con- 
fined in wet and miry dungeons, for more than a 
week ; when they were at length brought out by two 
negroes, their hands being tied behind them ; and 
were thus led to the water-side, and placed on board 
a boat for Rhode Island. Robert Hodgson passed 
over into Long Island, and was made instrumental to 
the convincement of many. He was however ar- 
rested at Hempstead, and cruelly pinioned, tied be- 
hind a cart, and thus dragged nearly thirty miles in 
the night, over bad roads, and mostly through the 
woods, to New Amsterdam, where he was thrown 
into a dungeon to await his sentence. This was of 
no light nature, he beinir denied a hearing in his own 
defence, and condemned, for preaching the Gospel 
freely and faithfully, to " work two years at a wheel- 
barrow, or pay, or cause to be paid, 600 guilders." 
The fine of course he could not pay, as he was inno- 
cent of any crime, and the paying of it would have 
been an acknowledgment of the authority of man to 
stop the progress of the gospel of Christ. The cruel- 
ties he underwent while thus in bondage, would have 
disgraced a heathen people. Twice he was so se- 
verely beaten by a negro, with a tarred rope more than 
an inch thick, that he fainted away. He was con- 
fined two nights and a day and a half without any 
food. Twice he was hung up by his hands, and 
weights were attached to his feet, and his back was 
then unmercifully beaten by a strong negro with rods. 
Being thus brought apparently very near the close of 
all mortal suffering, and desiring that some English 
people might be permitted to visit him and examine 
his body, a woman was admitted, who washed his 
stripes, and administered what she could to his neces- 
sities; but his strength was so reduced, his flesh so 
lacerated, and the dungeon so devoid of all comforts, 
that she told her husband she thought Robert could 
not live till the next day. A number of the inhabi- 
tants now offered to pay the fine for him ; but Robert 



1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 119 

told them he was not easy to receive his freedom that 
way. He believed the Lord would heal him, and 
was free to labour, when restored to strength, for the 
sustenance he should need. In a few days he was 
favoured to be sufficiently recruited to enable him to 
work, and was well contented w 7 ith his mean fare 
of bread and water. At length the community at 
large became so dissatisfied with the cruelties and 
continued imprisonment to which he was subjected, 
that their entreaties prevailed on the governor to set 
him at liberty. 

Christopher Holder and John Copeland, two of 
the fellow passengers of Robert Hodgson, went over 
into the island called Martha's vineyard, where there 
was a mission established among the native Indians, 
But the priests of the mission would not suffer them 
to remain ; and after a few days hospitable enter- 
tainment by the poor Indians, they were by the 
governor's orders, taken from the island in a canoe, 
and landed on the coast near Barnstable. They 
were gladly received at Sandwich by some sincere 
seekers after truth, but being at length arrested and 
brought to Plymouth, and thence banished from the 
jurisdiction, they took refuge in Rhode Island. 

Mary Clark was another of these fellow passen- 
gers, who first proceeded to Rhode Island, and thence 
to Boston ; regarding not what sufferings she might 
sustain, so that she might deliver the Lord's errand 
there, and " be discharged of that burden of the w r ord 
which lay so sore upon her." Here she was arrest- 
ed, barbarously beaten, receiving twenty stripes 
with a heavy three corded wdiip on her naked back, 
and committed to prison for twelve weeks ; during 
the latter part of which she suffered much from the 
cold. After her release, she laboured in the gospel 
throughout New England, until the next summer, 
when, with Richard Dowdney and Mary Weather- 
head, who also composed part of Robert Fowler's 
company, she suffered shipwreck, being suddenly 



12Q HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657. 

called by her heavenly Master, from the scene of 
her sufferings in this world, to the eternal reward 
prepared for those who have come through much 
tribulation, and had their robes washed in the blood 
of the Lamb. 

Christopher Holder and John Copeland were also 
called to suffer for their testimony to the truth. 
They proceeded from Rhode Island into Massachu- 
setts, and freely preached the gospel ; which found 
place among many, and took such root that all the 
endeavours of interested and bigoted men could not 
eradicate it. But going into the public worship 
house at Salem on a First-day, Christopher was 
moved to speak a few words after the usual service 
was over. On this he was furiously seized by the 
hair of his head, and a glove and handkerchief thrust 
into his mouth. The two Friends were violently car- 
ried away, and taken to Boston ; where they received 
each thirty strokes of a three corded and knotted 
whip, laid on with the executioner's utmost strength. 
Their bodies were thereby miserably torn and in- 
flamed ; yet they were allowed neither bed nor straw 
to lie on, and for three days the jailor furnished them 
neither food nor drink ; the only sustenance they re- 
ceived, being a little water given them by one of the 
prisoners, who, for this act of charity, w r as fiercely 
threatened by the jailer. They were not however 
forsaken by their Divine Master, but sustained and 
preserved in this time of extremity, and enabled to 
rejoice in the sensible evidence of His approving 
presence. Richard Dowdney also, who had come 
through Long Island and Rhode Island to Boston, 
was imprisoned with them. 

Humphrey Norton, before mentioned, remained 
sometime in Rhode Island and Providence, and then 
went to visit the seed sown and springing up in 
Plymouth colony. He was not permitted long 
to minister among the new converts there, but was 
arrested by a warrant from the governor, as " an 



1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 121 

extravagant person," and detained long without an 
examination. At length he was brought before the 
court, where many of the magistrates appeared dis- 
posed to be moderate. But the governor was violent 
against him, and commenced an attack on the prin- 
ciples of Friends, denying that the Light which en- 
lighteneth every one was sufficient to salvation. 
Humphrey, to manifest his blindness, showed him 
in express words of Scripture, that " the grace of 
God, that hringeth salvatioji, hath appeared unto all 
men ;" and that Christ had said, " my grace is suffi- 
cient for thee." The governor then asked him, 
" whether the Scriptures were not the rule of life, 
and ground of faith ?" Humphrey replied in the ne- 
gative, and proved, from the Scriptures themselves, 
that they did not claim this character ; informing 
them that it was " through faith in Christ Jesus," the 
great Author and finisher of our faith, and the true 
Rule and Guide of life, that the Scriptures were able 
to make wise unto salvation. The governor was 
unable to convict him of any breach of the laws, yet 
he banished him from the colony, and had him con- 
veyed fifty miles on the way to Rhode Island. 
Some time after this, travelling near New Haven, 
he was arrested, confined a considerable time in 
prison, cruelly whipped and burnt in the hand, and 
banished the patent. 

The rulers of Boston, finding that notwithstanding 
their persecuting law, the seeds of truth had taken 
root among many at Salem, and in other parts of 
the colony, and that the Quakers still continued to 
come in among them, drew the cords of persecution 
still tighter, and passed a law imposing a fine of one 
hundred pounds (or imprisonment till paid) on any 
one who should " bring or cause to be brought any 
Quakers or other blasphemous heretics into the juris- 
diction ;" and a penalty of forty shillings per hour 
upon any one who should entertain or conceal them 
in their houses; and enacting that everv Quaker 

11* 



122 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1657. 

who should presume to enter the colony, after 
having once suffered what the former law inflicted, 
(if a man) should, for the first offence, have one of 
his ears cut off, and be kept at work in the house of 
correction, till he can be sent away at his own 
charge ; and for the second offence, shall have his 
other ear cut off, and be kept at work as before ; or 
(if a woman) shall be severely whipped and kept at 
work ; and that for the third offence, whether man 
or woman, their tongues should be bored through 
with a hot iron, and they should be kept at work. 
This law also included in its penalties, those who 
should join Friends among themselves ; and as they 
had now a number of this devoted people in confine- 
ment, the jailor received orders that they should all 
be " severely whipped twice a week, beginning with 
fifteen lashes, and every time, to exceed three !" The 
Plymouth colony also enacted severe laws against 
Friends ; and the governor of New Amsterdam pub- 
lished a law, imposing a penalty of £50 sterling on 
any one who should receive a Quaker into his house, 
though but for a night ; and enacting that any ves- 
sel bringing a Quaker into that jurisdiction should 
be forfeited, with all its goods. This law however 
produced great dissatisfaction among the more se- 
rious part of the community, particularly on Long 
Island ; and indeed in this, as well as in the other 
colonies, the power and wrath of man were not able 
to stop the progress of the work to which the Lord 
had called his faithful servants. During the year 
1657, meetings were established and regularly kept 
up, in private houses, in the neighbourhood of Salem 
and of Sandwich ; one was held at Providence, and 
another on Rhode Island. On Long Island there 
were many individuals convinced of our principles ; 
and as far south as Maryland, there were found 
seals of the efficacy of the labours of these indefa- 
tigable and undaunted publishers of the glad tidings 
of the Gospel. 



1658.] THE SOCIETY OF FKIENDS. 123 

We have seen that some part of the West Indies 
had been visited by Friends in 1656. The hearts of 
many inhabitants of Barbadoes had been in measure 
opened to comprehend the spirituality of the Gospel, 
when John Bowran was drawn to visit them in the 
year 1657. This friend also, passing over to the 
South American continent, visited {Surinam, and 
travelled along the coast of Guiana for several hundred 
miles, with an interpreter, preaching the word of 
the true God to the Indian natives. 

Early in the year 1658, Sarah Gibbons and Doro- 
thy Waugh left Rhode Island, " to visit the seed at 
Salem." It was a wilderness journey of more than 
sixty miles, and was performed on foot, and partly 
through a great storm of snow. Besides this, they 
were obliged to lodge without shelter in the w^oods. 
But the Lord their Master preserved them through 
all dangers : and after labouring in the gospel among 
their friends at Salem, they went bound in the Spirit 
to Boston. As might be expected, they were soon 
arrested, confined in prison about a week without 
food, and beaten with a three-corded whip, the knots 
of which cruelly tore their flesh. About the time 
that they w x ere released, Horred Gardiner, of New- 
port, the mother of many children, believed it her 
duty to go to Weymouth, a town within the Boston 
patent, and there bear a testimony for the truth. 
Having a young infant, and travelling on foot, she 
took with her a girl named Mary Stanton, to assist 
her in carrying the child. She reached the place in 
safety, and her message found a witness to its truth 
in the hearts of the people ; but some of the baser 
sort caused her to be arrested, and carried to Boston. 
Here she was abusively examined by Governor En- 
dicot, and committed with her attendant to prison, 
where they each received a severe whipping from 
the three corded and knotted whip. Her poor babe 
was at her breast during the execution, protected by 
the arms of a mother's love, and unconscious of the 



124 HISTORICAL ME3IOIES OF [165S. 

agony which that mother was enduring. When the 
infliction was over, she knelt down, and breathed 
forth a petition that her persecutors might be for- 
given of her Father in Heaven, for they knew not 
what they did. Struck with the meek and forgiving 
spirit of the prisoner, a woman who stood by, was 
much moved, and gave " glory to the Lord," saying, 
" Surely, if she had not the Spirit of the Lord, she 
could not do this." They were detained after this, 
two weeks, in prison, during which time none of 
their friends were allowed to visit them. 

The spirit of persecution during this year was very 
active, particularly in the Plymouth colony ; and 
many instances were afforded of patient endurance 
of hard suffering, and of undaunted firmness in main- 
taining the cause of pure spiritual religion, which it 
is not necessary here to narrate. Yet we can scarce- 
ly pass away from the transactions of this year with- 
out briefly relating two other instances of wicked 
cruelty, which paved the w r ay for the dreadful scene 
of the succeeding year, in which the blood of mar- 
tyrs for the testimony of Jesus, w^as shed by the rulers 
of Boston. 

In the fourth month of this year (old style) Thomas 
Harris, William Brend, and William Leddra, the 
first and last of whom had landed the previous year 
at Rhode Island from Barbadoes, passed tow r ards 
Massachusetts. Thomas Harris entered Boston, and 
was soon committed to prison ; where he was twice 
severely whipped, and was kept for five days with- 
out any nourishment, until food was secretly con- 
veyed to him during the night, through the window 
of his prison. William Brend and William Leddra, 
passing on to Salem, were gladly received by 
Friends there; but afterwards were treacherously 
seized near Newburyport, and carried before the 
court then sitting at the former place. Several other 
Friends were also arrested for having attended their 
meetings ; and they were all committed on the second 



1658.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 125 

of Fifth month to Boston prison. William Brend and 
William Leddra were put into a room which had the 
window stopped, so as almost entirely to prevent 
the passage of air ; none of their friends were allow- 
ed access to them, neither were they permitted to 
purchase food. The keeper sometimes brought a 
little pottage and a piece of bread ; but as he would 
not take their money, and said they should not have 
the food without working for it, they were not free 
to touch it. They thus had no nourishment for 
several days. On the fifth of the month, the magis- 
trates directed that two of the prisoners, Lawrence 
and Josiah Southwick, should be reserved to lose 
their ears, and that the rest should be whipped. In 
pursuance of this order they suffered ; even Cassan- 
dra Southwick, Josiah's mother, receiving her portion 
of the cruel punishment. They were then detained 
for the fees, which they w T ere not at liberty with a 
clear conscience to pay. The next day, the jailer 
put William Brend into irons for not working. He 
placed a fetter on each leg, and one round his neck, 
and drawing them with force together, left this aged 
man locked in this suffering position for sixteen hours. 
The next morning, on his again declining to work, 
the jailer took a piece of inch rope, and beat him with 
all his strength, till after striking about twenty times, 
the rope began to untwist. Dreadfully mangled, Wil- 
liam was taken back to his close room ; but the same 
day he was again brought down stairs, and being 
commanded to labour, declined as before. The jailer 
now produced a much stronger rope, and continued 
to beat William therewith until he had given ninety- 
one blows, and his own strength was exhausted. 
The poor sufferer, beside that his back was beaten 
till it seemed almost like a jelly, had now been five 
clays without food ; and shortly after the keeper left 
him, he sunk down and seemed to be dying. The 
rulers became alarmed, for fear they should be charg- 
ed with having murdered him, and endeavoured by 



126 HISTORICAL MEMOIKS OF [1658. 

all means to revive him. The governor sent his phy- 
sician to him, who reported that his recovery was 
not probable, as the flesh was in such a condition that 
it would decay from the bones. The populace be- 
came excited at the idea of murder perpetrated by 
a public functionary, and the whole town was in. 
commotion. 

Humphrey Norton and John Rouse came to Bos- 
ton at this time from Rhode Island, in deep sym- 
pathy with their suffering brethren. They also were 
arrested, whipped, and shut up in prison. William 
Brend was favoured to recover rapidly. But several 
of his companions were subjected to a new order of 
the magistrates ; which was, that if they still refused 
to work, they should be regularly whipped twice a 
week, increasing three lashes each time, till they 
should submit. Having all of them been whipped 
but a short time before, the old wounds were still 
fresh, and opened and bled freely at the renewed 
application of the lash. The people of Boston be- 
came more and more excited, and in compassion for 
them, a sum of money was raised by subscription, 
wherewith the fines were paid, and all, except the 
five friends from Salem, were sent away from the 
colony. Two of the latter were soon afterwards re- 
leased, but the remaining three were detained for 
twenty weeks. 

Christopher Holder, John Rouse, and John Cope- 
land, being again imprisoned at Boston in the ninth 
month, sulfered the cruel punishment of having their 
right ears cut off by the hangman, and were after- 
wards again whipped. 



1659.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 127 



CHAPTER XII. 

MARTYRDOM OF WILLIAM ROBINSON, MARMADUKE STEVEN- 
SON, MARY DYER AND WILLIAM LEDDRA — GEORGE FOX 
IMPRISONED IN SCARBOROUGH CASTLE. 

We now approach the consummation of all these 
cruelties, which had often appeared to be the aim of 
the Boston rulers, even the taking away of the life of 
their innocent victims. In the Tenth month of this 
year, they enacted a law to banish all Quakers who 
should come among them, " on pain of death." 

In the Ninth month of the next year, (1659) Wil- 
liam Robinson, Marmaduke Stevenson, Mary Dyer, 
and Nicholas Davis, who were prisoners for the cause 
of a good conscience in Boston jail, were by this law 
banished from the colonjr, with the provision, that 
their return would be the forfeiture of their lives. The 
two former left the town of Boston, but did not feel 
free (although at so great a peril) to leave the juris- 
diction, until they should have a clear intimation from 
their Divine Master, that they were at liberty to 
depart. They therefore went to Salem and the neigh- 
bourhood, endeavouring to build up their friends in 
the faith. It was not long, however, before they were 
arrested, again imprisoned, and chained by their legs. 
The next month, Mary Dyer returned also, and being 
recognized, was likewise taken into custody. On the 
twentieth, the three were brought before the Gover- 
nor and court, and desired to listen to their sentence 
of death. William Robinson, who had prepared a 
paper, setting forth his reasons for not having departed 
from the jurisdiction, now asked liberty to read it. 
This was peremptorily refused. He then laid it on 
the table, containing among other things, a declara- 
tion " that he had not come thither in his own will, but 
in obedience to his Creator — that the Lord had com- 



128 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1659 

manded him to go to Boston, and there to lay down 
his life, — that he had felt an assurance that his soul 
was to enter eternal peace and rest — and that he 
durst not disobey, believing that it became him as a 
child, to show obedience to the Lord, without any 
unwillingness." The governor read the letter to him- 
self, but would not suffer it to be read aloud in the 
court, and presently pronounced the sentence, " that 
William Robinson should be had back to the prison 
whence he came, and thence to the place of execu- 
tion, to be hanged on the gallows till he should be 
dead." The same sentence was then pronounced 
against Marmaduke Stevenson- and Mary Dyer ; to 
which the latter replied, " The will of the Lord be 
done." The governor then said, " Take her away, 
marshal ;" to which she returned, " Yea, joyfully I 
go." In going back to the prison, she uttered fre- 
quent praises to the Lord, being full of holy joy that 
she was counted worthy to suffer shame for His name, 
and told the marshal, he might let her alone, for she 
would go to the prison without him. To which he 
replied, " I believe you, Mrs. Dyer ; but I must do 
what I am commanded." Marmaduke also gave 
forth a paper, after sentence was pronounced, in 
which he clearly stated his divine call into that colony, 
and that it was not in his own will, but in the will of 
God. And Mary Dyer, from her prison, addressed 
the court in writing, making a similar declaration, and 
solemnly warning them that if they put to death any 
of these, the Lord's servants, it would* tend to their 
own destruction. 

They remained a week in prison, and on the 27th 
of the Tenth month, were led to the gallows by the 
marshal, attended by a band of about two hundred 
armed men, besides many horsemen. The envious 
priest Wilson, also joined the company, who, when 
the court was deliberating how to deal with the Qua- 
kers, had said, " Hang them ; or else — (drawing his 
finger across his throat, as if he w^ould have said,) 






1659.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 129 

" Dispatch them this way." As they proceeded to 
the place of execution, the drums were beaten, espe- 
cially when any of them attempted to speak. Glo- 
rious signs of heavenly joy sat upon the countenances 
of these martyrs for the truth, who walked hand in 
hand, as if going to an everlasting feast. When they 
approached the gallows, the priest in a taunting way, 
said to W. Robinson, " Shall such jacks as you come in 
before authority with their hats on V To which he 
replied, " Mind you, it is for not putting off the hat, we 
are put to death !" They now took leave of each 
other with tender embraces ; and W. Robinson going 
cheerfully up the ladder, said to the people, many of 
whom were doubtless awfully impressed with the 
iniquitous proceeding, u This is the day of your visita- 
tion, wherein the Lord hath visited you : this is the 
day the Lord is risen in his mighty power, to be 
avenged on all his adversaries." He also declared 
that he suffered not as an evil doer, and desired the 
spectators to mind the Light of Christ which was in 
them, of which he had testified, and was now going to 
seal his testimony with his blood. The rope being put 
around his neck, and his hands, legs and face being 
bound, and the executioner about to turn him off, he 
said, " I sutler for Christ, in whom I live, and for 
whom I die." He was then turned off; and Marma- 
duke stepping up the ladder, said, " Be it known unto 
all, this day, that we suffer not as evil-doers, but for 
conscience sake." And adding, " This day shall we 
be at rest with the Lord ;" he too was launched into 
the eternal world. Mary Dyer, seeing her compa- 
nions hanging dead before her, also stepped up the 
ladder ; but after her clothes were tied about her, the 
halter adjusted about her neck, and her face covered 
with a handkerchief, just as she was to be turned off, 
a cry was heard, that she was reprieved. Her son, 
it seems, had interceded for her life, which was 
granted at the last minute. She was roughly taken 
down from the ladder, and conveyed back to prison ; 

12 



130 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1660. 

and the magistrates perceiving that the people began 
to be much discontented at the violence of their pro- 
ceedings, resolved to send her away. She was ac- 
cordingly conveyed towards Rhode Island on horse- 
back, guarded by four men, and thus returned home. 
She is said to have been a person possessed of some 
extraordinary mental qualities, of a comely and grave 
countenance, of a good family, and the mother of 
several children. 

The bodies of the two Friends who suffered death, 
were barbarously thrown into a hole, without any 
covering ; and when some of their friends would have 
laid them in coffins, this was denied them ; as also 
was the privilege of fencing the place around, to pre- 
vent their being preyed upon by the wild beasts, 
which then abounded in this new country. 

Mary Dyer, in the spring of the next year, (1660) 
found herself constrained once more to return to Bos- 
ton, notwithstanding the sufferings which she knew 
awaited her. She arrived there on the 21st of the 
Third month, and ten days afterwards was sent for 
before the governor and general court. Being ques- 
tioned, she undauntedly acknowledged herself to he 
one of those in scorn called Quakers, and that she 
was the same person who had been there at the last 
session of the court. She was told that the sentence 
passed upon her before was now to be renewed, and 
that she must prepare herself to die the following 
morning. To which she replied, that she came in 
obedience to the will of God, to desire them to repeal 
their unrighteous laws. They would not hear her out, 
but cried, " away with her ; away with her !" and 
sent her back to prison. 

Next morning the marshal came, and called her 
hastily to come. And rudely entering the room 
where she was, she desired him to stay a little, and 
mildly added, that she should be ready presently. 
But he roughly replied that he could not wait upon 
her, but she should now wait upon him. Margaret 



1661.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 131 

Smith, her companion, being grieved at such unfeel- 
ing behaviour, expressed her sense of the injustice of 
their proceedings ; to which he threateningly said, 
" you shall have your share of the same." Mary 
was then led through the town with a band of sol- 
diers, the drums being beaten before and behind her, 
to prevent her from being heard in speaking to the 
spectators. Being come to the gallows, and having 
ascended the ladder, she was told that if she would 
return home, she might yet save her life. To which 
she replied, " Nay, 1 cannot ; for in obedience to the 
will of the Lord 1 came, and in His will I abide faith- 
ful to the death." The priest cried out to her to 
repent, and not to be so deluded. But she let him 
know that the work of repentance was not then to be 
entered upon by her. Several observations of a like 
nature were made to her, and in reply she spoke of 
the heavenly state of mind which had for some days 
been her portion, and of the eternal happiness into 
which she was now about to enter. She was then 
turned off, and finished her course, a martyr for the 
truth in Christ. 

The next that suffered death was William Leddra. 
He had already been banished from Boston on pain 
of death ; but was under such necessity of conscience, 
that he could not forbear returning. He was soon 
arrested, and being fastened to a log, was kept night 
and day locked in chains, in an open prison, during a 
very cold winter. Early in the spring of 1661, he 
was brought into the court, with his chains on, and 
the log at his heels : and asking the gaoler when he 
would take off the irons from his legs, he unfeelingly 
replied, that it should be, when he was about to be 
hanged. Being brought to the bar, he was told that 
he was to die. He asked, what evil he had done. 
He was told that he had owned those Quakers who 
had been put to death, and had said that they were 
innocent ; and besides, that he would not put off his 
hat in court, and that he said thee and thou. Then, 



132 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1661. 

said he, " You will put me to death for speaking 
English, and for not putting off my clothes !" To 
this Major-general Denison returned, " A man may- 
speak treason in English." William Leddra in- 
quired, " Is it then treason to say thee and thou to a 
single person ?" No one answered ; but a member of 
the court asked him, whether he would go for Eng- 
land 1 To which he replied that he had no business 
there. The member then, pointing to the gallows, 
said, " Then you shall go that way !" To which 
William returned, " What! will ye put me to death 
for breathing in the air of your jurisdiction ? I appeal 
to the laws of England, and if by them I am guilty, 
I refuse not to die." Of this no notice was taken, but 
they endeavoured to persuade him to conform to their 
wishes ; to which with a grave magnanimity he an- 
swered, " What ! to join with such murderers as you 
are 1 Then let every man that meets me, say, lo ! this 
is the man that hath forsaken the God of his salva- 
tion." He was again assailed by the offer, that if he 
would promise to depart from the jurisdiction, and to 
come there no more, his life should be spared ; but 
knowing that to purchase his natural life by making 
a promise, the fulfilment of which might forfeit his 
duty to his Lord and Master, would bring spiritual 
death to his soul, which was much more to be dreaded 
than the death of the body, he replied : " I stand not 
in my own will, but in the will of the Lord. If I may 
have my freedom [from Him,] I shall go ; but to 
make you a promise, I cannot." He was accordingly 
condemned to death, and was led back to his prison. 
The day before his execution, his mind was drawn 
out in an affectionate farewell address to his beloved 
friends. " The sweet influences of the morning star," 
says he, " like a flood distilling into my innocent habi- 
tation, have so filled me with the joy of the Lord in 
the beauty of holiness, that my spirit is as if it did not 
inhabit a tabernacle of clay, but is wholly swallowed 
up in the bosom of eternity, from whence it had its 



1661.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 133 

being." " Oh, my beloved," he afterwards adds, " I 
have waited as a dove at the windows of the ark, — 
and my heart did rejoice, that I might in the love and 
life of God, speak a few words to you, sealed with the 
spirit of promise, that the taste thereof might be a 
savour of life to your life, and a testimony in you of 
my innocent death." " Therefore, my dear friends, 
let the enjoyment of the life alone be your hope, your 
joy and consolation — let the man of God flee those 
things that w T ould lead the mind out of the cross — 
stand in* the watch within, in the fear of the Lord, 
which is the very entrance of wisdom — stand still, 
and cease from thy own working — confess Him before 
men, yea, before his greatest enemies — fear not what 
they can do unto you. Greater is He that is in you, 
than he that is in the world. He will clothe you 
with humility, and in the power of his meekness you 
shall reign over all the rage of your enemies, in the 
favour of God ; wherein, as you stand in faith, ye are 
the salt of the earth ; for many seeing your good 
works, may glorify God in the day of their visitation." 

" Bring all things to the Light, that they may be 
proved, whether they be wrought in God. The love 
of the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the 
eye, are without the light — therefore possess your 
vessels in all sanctification and honour, and let your 
eye look at the mark." 

Thus did he encourage them to faithfulness, and 
concluded by commending them to that grace which 
himself had experienced, and by which they also 
might attain to salvation. What must have been the 
emotions with which those words of exhortation were 
received, penned as they were on the eve of suffering 
martyrdom for that faith which he so earnestly pressed 
upon his friends. 

The next day, being the 14th of the First month, 

(old style) 1661, the awful sentence was- executed. 

After the lecture, (solemn farce as it was!) Governor 

Endicot came with a guard of soldiers to the prison. 

12* 



134 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662. 

William Leddra's irons by which he had been chained 
to a log, ni^ht and day, during a cold winter, were 
knocked off, and he was conducted to the gallows, 
where he was pinioned ; and as he was about to 
ascend the ladder, he took leave of a friend who was 
then under sentence of banishment, saying, " all that 
will be Christ's disciples must take up the cross." On 
the ladder he said to the people, " For the testimony 
of Jesus, and for testifying against deceivers, and the 
deceived, I am brought here to suffer ;" and continuing 
cheerful, as the hangman was putting the halter 
round his neck, he was heard to say, " 1 commit my 
righteous cause unto thee, O God !' And adding 
" Lord Jesus, receive my spirit," he was turned off, 
and finished his days on earth, to receive that " crown 
of life" which is given to those who are " faithful unto 
death." 

The persecutors had also in confinement Wenlock 
Christison, on the same account, whom likewise after 
much dissention among themselves, the governor 
condemned to death. But from some cause which 
did not appear, he was with twenty-seven more of 
his friends, suddenly set at liberty. And now we 
may turn from these scenes of blood, from wdiich the 
heart recoils, and see what was taking place in other 
parts of the Society. 

In the year 1662, George Fox and Richard Hub- 
berthorn addressed a letter to the king, setting forth 
the affecting facts, that during the protectorate of the 
two Cromwells, three thousand one hundred and 
seventy-three of their friends had been imprisoned 
for conscience sake, and for bearing a testimony to 
the truth as it is in Jesus — that there still lay in pri- 
son seventy-three individuals, committed under the 
power of the Commonwealth — that thirty-two during 
the protectorates died in confinement, through cruel 
and hard imprisonments, upon nasty straw and in 
dungeons — and that during the two years since the 
king's restoration, three thousand and sixty-eight had 



1665.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 135 

been imprisoned on the like account ; and their meet- 
ings were still broken up by violent men, and Friends 
were cruelly thrown into waters, or trodden down 
till the blood gushed from them — the number of which 
abuses, they said, could hardly be uttered. They 
therefore besought the king to consider their inno- 
cence, and put a stop to these grievous sufferings. 
But the next year, George himself was imprisoned 
at Lancaster; whence being removed in 1665 to 
Scarborough castle, he suffered much from exposure 
to cold and wet in a miserable room, open to the 
weather, and was not released until 1666, by appeal- 
ing to the king, on the injustice of his case. The 
room in which he was first immured had no proper 
defence from the rain, nor exit for the smoke ; and 
when George had spent a considerable sum of money 
in rendering it more comfortable, they speedily re- 
moved him into another room, overlooking the sea, 
and so open to the weather, that the wind drove the 
rain in forcibly, and the water came over his bed and 
ran about the room, to such a degree that he had to 
lade it up with a plate. There was in this room 
neither chimney nor fire-place. When his clothes 
were wet, he had no fire by which to dry them, and 
by this damp, and the cold weather, he became much 
diseased. They would frequently prevent his friends 
from bringing him food ; so that he had to hire a sol- 
dier to bring him bread and water; a three-penny 
loaf of bread commonly served him three weeks, and 
sometimes longer ; and his drink was mostly water, 
with wormwood bruised and steeped in it. One time 
when the weather was very sharp, and he had taken 
a great cold, he procured a little elecampane beer ; 
but the soldiers contrived to have him sent for to the 
deputy-governor, and in his absence stole his beve- 
rage. 

During the early part of this imprisonment, while 
in Lancaster gaol, he had a sense of the approach of 
that awful scourge, permitted by the Almighty to 



136 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1657. 

come upon a guilty people, in the memorable fire of 
London, by which a great part of that city was de- 
stroyed, commencing the next day after his release 
from Scarborough castle. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THE CONVINCEMENT OF RICHARD DA VIES. 

About the year 1657, Richard Davies, a Welch- 
man, who had been educated in the Episcopal society, 
but had joined the Independents, became convinced 
of the truth of the principles held by the people called 
Quakers, and united himself in fellowship with them. 
As he was one of the first witnesses for these princi- 
ples raised up in Wales, so he also became in after 
time, one of the most valiant and useful instruments in 
the Lord's hand, in gathering and confirming that 
people in his own country, even through hot persecu- 
tion. His simple narrative of his convincement, gives 
so clear a statement of the ground on which he em- 
braced these principles, and of the gradual but steady 
developement of Christian truth in his mind, through 
the successive manifestations of the Divine Light, 
inwardly received, cherished and obeyed, that we 
may do well to pursue it in some of his own words, 
as an example, out of many thousand similar instances, 
of the way and work of the Lord. 

"About the year 1656," says he, "our -ministers 
told us, that there was a sort of people come up in 
the north, called Quakers, that were a people of 
strange posture and principles. — They were repre- 
sented to us to be such a dangerous sort of people, 
that we were afraid of any who had the name of 
Quakers, lest we should be deceived by them. Hith- 



1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 137 

erto they had not been in these parts, neither did we 
know what were the principles held out by them- 
selves ; but only such as were reported to us, though 
falsely, by our preachers and others ; which kept us 
in blindness, and from making further inquiry, from 
trying all things, and holding fast that which is good. 
"About the year 1657," — Richard Davies being 
then about twenty -two years of age, — he continues : 
" there came a poor man, in a mean habit, to my mas- 
ter's house, named Morgan Evan, of South Wales : 
he had met with the people called Quakers in his 
travels, and was convinced of the truth. This poor 
man discoursed with my master about the principles 
of truth, and I being in the shop about my calling, 
my mistress came to me, and said, ' Why do you not 
go out to help your master \ for there is a Quaker at 
the door, that hath put him to silence.' I hearing this, 
made haste, and took my Bible under my arm, and 
put on what courage I could, to dispute with that 
poor man ; but he proved too hard for us all. When 
I went to them, they were upon the words thee and 
thou. I very peremptorily asked him, what com- 
mand he had to speak thee and thou. I acknowledged 
to him it was the language of God to Adam, and the 
language of Scripture; 'but,' said I, 'that is not 
enough for us now in this day ; we must have a com- 
mand for it' To which he answered, ' Hold fast the 
form of sound words, which thou hast heard of me.' 
I told him, we heard the Quakers denied the Scrip- 
ture, and would not read them. He said, there were 
many false reports of them. And truly, when he quoted 
the Scripture so readily, I concluded that what was 
reported of them was not true ; and he saw that he 
had reached to the witness of God in me. Then he 
exhorted me to take heed to that light which shined 
in my heart, and shewed my vain thoughts, and re- 
proved me in secret for every idle word and action ; 
saying, that was the true Light, which lighteth every 
man that cometh into the world ; and in that light, I 



138 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1657. 

should see more light, and that would open the Scrip- 
tures to me, and I should receive a measure of the 
same spirit which gave them forth. And further, he 
told me, it was the more sure word of prophecy, unto 
which I did well to take heed, " as unto a light that 
shineth in a dark place until the day dawn and the 
day-star arise in the heart." And he spoke much of 
the inward work and operation of God's Holy Spirit 
on the soul ; recommending me to the grace of God, 
that bringeth salvation, * teaching us, that denying 
ungodliness and worldly lusts, w 7 e should live soberly, 
righteously, and godly in this present world.' And 
so he departed, and I set him along on his way. 

" The consideration of his words took fast hold on 
me, that I could not go from under them ; and the 
more I waited in that light to which he recommended 
me, the more my former peace, and that in which I 
formerly took comfort, was broken. Herein I came 
to see that our former building could not stand, for 
we built upon that which the apostle called ' wood, 
hay, and stubble.' Thus I came to a loss of all my 
former knowledge, and my former performances 
proved but a sandy foundation. Then I did, with 
much humility and poverty of spirit, beg of Almighty 
God, that I might build upon that Rock which the true 
church of Christ was built upon, that the gates of hell 
might not prevail against me." 

" I was made willing to lay hold on the precious 
promises of Holy Scripture, and waited for the fulfil- 
ling of them in myself and of that which Christ said 
to the Jews, ' It is written in the prophets, And they 
shall be all taught of God. Every man therefore that 
hath heard, and hath learned of the Father, cometh 
unto me.' 

" When I came to know a little of the teachings of 
the Lord, I took my leave of all my former formal 
teachers, and many times went into the woods and 
other by-places, where none might see me, to wait 
upon the Lord ; where I was much broken and ten- 



1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 139 

dered by the power of God. And though I began to 
see a little of myself, and something of the goodness 
of God, still I was afraid of being deceived ; for I 
had read that * Satan himself is transformed into an 
angel of light.' I desired of the Lord that I might see 
this poor man once again; for I knew not where to see 
the face of any called a Friend. And it pleased God 
that he came again that way. Then I queried of him 
their way of worship, and concerning those two 
great ordinances, so called, that we so much relied 
upon, namely, the bread and wine, and baptism ; and 
respecting the Scriptures, to know what was their 
judgment of them ; — to which he gave me some sat- 
isfaction. In the morning I parted with him, and to 
my knowledge I saw him no more for several years. 
" In all this time I still kept my retirement in the 
woods, or some other private place ; and there wait- 
ing, I desired of the Lord, that I might be farther sat- 
isfied by himself as to those things : first, Whether the 
Scriptures were the Word of God, as was said and 
preached unto us they were, and the way to life and 
salvation. Then the first chapter of John came un- 
der my serious consideration. [' In the beginning 
was the Word ; and the Word was with God, and 
the Word was God,' &c] I, with many more, was 
under that mistake the Jews were, who thought they 
might have eternal life in the Scriptures; whereas 
Christ saith, ' Search,' or, ' ye search the Scriptures ; 
for in them ye think ye have eternal life : and they 
are they which testify of me. And ye will not come 
unto ME, that ye might have life.' — As He is the 
life, so he is the way to the Father : * I am the way, 
the truth, and the life : no man cometh unto the 
Father but by me.' — As for the Scriptures, 1 was a 
great lover and a great reader of them, and took 
great pleasure in searching them, thinking that would 
make me wise unto salvation. Paul said to Timothy, 
* And that from a child thou hast known the Holy 
Scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto 



140 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657. 

salvation, through faith which is in Christ Jesus. 1 — 
This main thingr was wanting in me, the true and 
saving faith, which ' is the gift of God/ * Foi* by 
grace ye are saved, through faith, and that not of 
yourselves : it is the gift of God.' So it is the grace 
of God that brings salvation, and not the bare histori- 
cal knowledge of the Scriptures. Men may have a 
great literal knowledge of the Scriptures, and yet re- 
main in error, because they know them not as they 
ought to do, nor the power that was in the holy men 
that gave them forth : as Christ said to the Jews, '■ Ye 
do err, not knowing the Scriptures, nor the power of 
God.' That which gives the true knowledge of God, 
and a right understanding of the Scriptures, is there- 
fore the power of God. ' For,' says the apostle, 
* God, who commanded the light to shine out of dark- 
ness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of 
the knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of 
Jesus Christ.' And as men and women come to 
mind this light, that is, the Spirit of God, and to obey 
it, they shall come to the comfort of the Scriptures, 
of which the same apostle speaks : * Whatsoever 
things were written aforetime were written for our 
learning ; that we, through patience and comfort of 
the Scriptures, might have hope.' 

"And being under a serious consideration of what 
I read in the sacred writings, I believed the Spirit 
of the Lord to be the interpreter thereof. Those 
great mysteries that were hid from ages and genera- 
tions, and are hid now in this our age from many, are 
come to be revealed by the Spirit of God. And 
though formerly I read the Scriptures as too many 
do, without a true sense and due consideration, yet 
now, I can bless God for them, and have great com- 
fort in the reading of them ; they being no more as a 
sealed book to me. and many more, who wait for the 
assistance of God's Holy Spirit, in all their duties 
and performances : for without Him we know that 
we can do nothing that is pleasing unto him. For- 



1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 141 

merly we ran in our own time and wills to preach 
and pray, not having a due regard to the leading 
and moving of the Spirit of the Lord : but many 
times, when I arose from my knees in a formal way 
of prayer, the reproof was very near me, \ Who re- 
quired this at thy hands 1 It is sparks of thy own 
kindling.' I was afraid that I should lie down in sor- 
row, as was said to some by the Lord. Isaiah i. 11. 
" I had much reasoning in my mind concerning 
water baptism, and the bread and wine. And when 
I was satisfied as to those weighty concerns, I thought 
I might rest there, and keep my old customs, and 
fashions, and language. But that would not do ; I 
had no peace therein. God showed me the vain 
customs of the nation, and that our language was not 
according to the language of God's people, recorded 
in the Scriptures of Truth. And withal I knew a 
little grammar, and how it was improper to say vos 
(you) to a single person, instead of tic (thou). I 
also believed that the Lord would return to his peo- 
ple * a pure language,' as was promised in the days 
of old. Zeph. iii. 9. Thus I was conscientiously 
concerned to speak the ' pure language' of thee and 
thou to every one, without respect of persons ; which 
was a great cross to me. Though it seems to some 
but as a weak and foolish things yet when the Lord 
lays the necessity of speaking the truth to all, in the 
language that God and all his servants used, it comes 
to be of greater weight than many light airy people 
think it is. This necessity being laid upon me, I spoke 
to my master in that dialect. He was not offended at 
it, because he w r as convinced of the truth of it, and 
that it ought to be spoken to every one. But when 
I gave it to my mistress, she took a stick, and gave 
me such a blow on my bare head, that made it swell 
and sore for a considerable time. She swore she 
would kill me, though she should be hanged for it ; 
though before that time, she seldom, if ever, gave me 
an angry word. But I considered that, 'that which 

13 



142 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657. 

was born after the flesh persecuted him that was born 
after the Spirit.' 

" The Almighty put it into my heart to consider 
the cost, and that through tribulation 1 was to enter 
into the kingdom of heaven; and I was faithful in 
this testimony that I had to bear. I was much en- 
couraged to go on in that strait and narrow w T ay, 
that God showed me I was to w 7 alk in ; considering 
the saying : ' Whosoever doth not bear his cross, and 
come after me, cannot be my disciple/ — And my 
prayers unto Him were, that He would enable me to 
go through all things that He required of me. 

" I was now first called a Quaker, because I said 
to a single person thee and thou, and kept on my hat, 
and did not go after the customs and fashions of the 
world, that other professors lived and walked in. 
Though some of these would complain of their own 
formalities, and were weary of the fashions of the 
world, yet they did not take up their cross and leave 
them. Jn thus doing I had great comfort from the 
Lord, and did receive from Him living satisfaction, 
and encouragement to go on in my w^ay. — The Lord 
kept me, and his people, very meek and low in our 
minds, in a self-denying spirit. We w r aited for the 
living Word, that came with a living voice from 
Him that speaks from heaven to us by His Spirit ; 
and the living voice is the voice of * Christ in us, the 
hope of glory ;' which voice we esteemed more than 
our necessary food. For obeying this voice, we 
came to be mocked and derided ; and they spoke all 
manner of evil against us, and hated us for His 
name's sake. — These and the like afflictions I was to 
meet with, if I truly and faithfully followed the Lord 
Jesus Christ ; therefore I laboured to put on the 
whole armour of light, that 1 might be able to with- 
stand the fiery darts of the wicked one. 

" The rage of my mistress was not yet abated, 
though she had nothing against me but my not con- 
forming to the corrupt language and vain customs of 



1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 143 

the world ; for I laboured to keep a conscience void 
of offence both towards God and man. One time, 
when she thought it a fit opportunity to execute her 
cruelty, she fell into a great rage ; and I was freely 
given up to die that hour by her ; but the Lord was 
pleased to accept of my free-will offering. He ap- 
peared for my deliverance, and made her more mo- 
derate the rest of my servitude. And after I went 
away, the Lord visited her with a sharp fit of sick- 
ness; in which time she said that she thought she 
should not die till she had asked me forgiveness, de- 
siring them to send for me, even if it were from Lon- 
don. And so they did. I could freely forgive her, 
for that I had done long since ; and I prayed to my 
Heavenly Father that he might forgive her also. 
It pleased God to touch her with a sense of his love, 
and lengthen her days ; she confessing often the 
wrong she had done to an honest careful young man, 
as she said I had been, who had minded her hus- 
band's inward and outward good, more than they 
themselves did. 

" About this time (1657) it was the talk of the 
country, that I was become a Quaker. My parents 
were much concerned about me. I had not been yet 
with them, but waited for clearness in myself, and 
then 1 went to see them. It was a trouble to them 
to see that I did not, as formerly, go down upon my 
knees to ask their blessing, and bow to them, and 
take off my hat. My father soon turned his back 
upon me. I had heard of his displeasure, and of his 
having said he would leave me nothing — that they 
thought to have had comfort of me, but now expec- 
ted none, but that I would go up and down the 
country, crying, Repent ! Repent ! — I remembered 
David's condition, when he said, ' Thou hast been 
my help ; leave me not, neither forsake me, O God 
of my salvation. When my father and my mother 
forsake me, then the Lord will take me up. Teach 



144 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657. 

me thy way, O Lord, and lead me in a plain path, 
because of mine enemies.' 

" At length my mother came tenderly to me — and 
when I discoursed with her out of the Scriptures, 
her heart was much affected with the goodness of 
God towards me. She went for my father, and said 
to him, 'Be of good comfort ; our son is not as was re- 
ported of him ; we hope to have comfort of him yet.' 

" A little after this, I came to hear that some 
of the people called Quakers were at Shrewsbury, 
distant from my abode about eighteen miles. I 
waited for an opportunity to go to see them, and the 
way of their worship, for as yet I had not seen any 
of them, but that one poor man before mentioned. I 
went first to the house of John Millington, where 
many Friends resorted, and they of the town came 
to see me in great love and tenderness, and much 
brokenness of heart was among us, though but few 
words. We waited to feel the Lord among us, in 
all our comings together. When the first day of the 
week came, we went to a meeting at William Pane's ; 
and though it was silent as to words, yet the Word 
of the 1 Lord was among us. It was as a hammer 
and a fire — it was sharper than any two-edged 
sword — it pierced through our inward parts — it melt- 
ed and brought us into tears, that there was scarcely 
a dry eye among us. The Lord's blessed power over- 
shadowed our meeting, and I could have said, that 
God alone was Master of that assembly. The next 
day, we heard that John ap John was to have a meet- 
ing there. I staid that meeting ; where I heard, for 
the first time, one called a Quaker preach in a meet- 
ing. And when I heard him, I thought he spoke as 
one having authority, and not as the scribes, his 
words were so sound and piercing. 

" I came home ; where I was under many consi- 
derations, and especially that of Christ's words, ' Ye 
are the light of the world. Let your light so shine 
before men, that they may see your good works, 



1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 145 

and glorify your Father which is in heaven.' And 
afterwards the Lord required of me to go and give 
my testimony for Him, and to warn a company of 
people to think of their latter end, who were met to 
dance and to play, not far from my master's house. 
When I came within the room where they were 
dancing, the fiddler ceased playing, and they dancing ; 
and I declared the word of the Lord among them. 
That which was chiefly before me was that of Job xxi. 
11,13. ' They send forth their little ones like a flock, 
and their children dance. They take the timbrel and 
harp, and rejoice at the sound of the organ. They 
sdpen their days in mirth, and in a moment go down 
to the grave.' When I had discharged myself of 
what lay upon me, I parted from them in love and 
peace. They thanked me for my good exhortation, 
and some of them came to set me home. 

" After this, I still waited to know the will and 
counsel of God, and that he might direct me in my 
way, and order my steps in this my spiritual travel. 
For I had none to look unto but Him alone, who was 
all-sufficient to carry on the work which He had be- 
gun, though often by weak, poor, mean, and con- 
temptible instruments in the eye of the world. Well 
might I say with the apostle, ' But God hath chosen 
the foolish things of the world to confound the wise ; 
and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to 
confound the things which are mighty; and base 
things of the world, and things which are despised, 
hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to 
bring to naught things that are.' 

" About this time I went to visit some young men, 
my former companions in profession of religion. 
Two of them were convinced, and received the 
Truth. When we were come to the number of four, 
it was with me, that we ought to meet together in 
the name of the Lord ; for I remembered the promise 
of Christ, who said, * Where two or three are gather- 
ed together in my name, there am I in the midst of 

*13 



146 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657. 

them.' So we all agreed to meet together; but none 
of us had a house of his own to meet in. We deter- 
mined therefore to meet on a hill in a common, as 
near as we could for the convenience of each other, 
we living some miles apart. There we met in 
silence, to the wonder of the country. When the 
rain and weather beat upon us on one side of the hill, 
we went to the other side. We were not free to go 
into any neighbours' enclosures, for they were so 
blind, dark, and ignorant, that they looked upon us 
as witches, and would go away from us, some cross- 
ing themselves with their hands about their foreheads 
and faces. 

''Thus we continued for some time, till two of them 
left me [to live elsewhere.] The third was William 
Davies : and we met together for some time ; but one 
time he staid [away] longer than usual, and a dark 
spirit possessed him, so that the little time we were 
together was not comfortable to me ; and when we 
had broke up the meeting, he asked me, « How J did 
think we should stand, in the face of the whole 
country?' I answered him with great zeal, < The ser- 
pent, the serpent, the same that beguiled the woman 
in Paradise, hath beguiled thee ; — thou wilt not be 
able to stand.' And while we were yet discoursing, 
I saw my master coming ; two women followed him, 
the one being his wife, my cruel mistress, the other 
his sister. They both had staves in their hands, and 
when they came to us, my mistress began beating 
William Davies. So his trial came very quickly, 
and he came no more to meet with me, nor any other 
Friends for many years. It so happened that I had 
not a blow among them. 

" These young men going away thus, I was left 
alone again, but still I kept waiting upon the Lord, to 
know his will concerning me. And when the time of 
my apprenticeship was over, I found freedom to go 
to London; and finding many Friends there, I settled 
to my trade ; and well satisfied I was that I could go 



1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 147 

to meetings and follow my business. When any 
thing would come into my mind of this my native 
country, [Wales] barren and uninhabited with Friends 
and Truth, I endeavoured to shut it out, and to keep 
where 1 was. But all my fair pretences and reason- 
ings would not do. Disobedient to the Lord I was, 
and trouble and sorrow and judgment from the Lord 
came upon me, for not obeying his command, to go 
to my own country, and stand a witness for Him 
there. In this my disobedience I continued, till I lost 
His presence, and He smote me with trouble within, 
and pain in my bones, that I could not work. My 
pain of body and spirit increased, till at last I was 
forced to bow to the will of the Great God, who was 
too strong for me. And reasoning with Him one 
night upon the bed of my sorrows, he showed me 
clearly, that I was to go to my own country. And I 
was made willing to go, if He would be pleased to let 
me know his will and pleasure by this token, that He 
would remove my pain. J also reasoned with Him 
thus ; that I was alone, like a pelican in the wilder- 
ness, or a sparrow on the house-top. The Lord still 
commanded me to go, showing that He would provide 
a help-meet for me. And w r hen I had made a cove- 
nant with the Lord to go, immediately my pain was 
removed, and I had peace and quietness of mind. I 
arose next morning, and went to my work ; and 
when those tender Friends that had a regard for me 
in my sickness, came to see me that morning, I was 
gone to w T ork, to their admiration. 

" The Lord, in a little time, provided a help-meet 
for me, for I prayed unto Him, that she might be of 
his own providing. We concluded to lay our pro- 
ceedings before our elders, and especially George 
Fox — who desired the Lord to be with us. And 
when we saw our clearness in the Lord, we went to 
the meeting in Tower Street, London, in the morning, 
and in the afternoon to Southwark ; and in that meet- 
ing, in the presence of God and that assembly, we 



148 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657. 

took each other to be man and wife. God alone 
knew our innocency and integrity in coming together. 
It was not for gold, nor silver, nor any outward thing ; 
but to be serviceable to Him in our age and genera- 
tion, and to stand witnesses for Him and His blessed 
Truth, where he should send us. Soon after, in the 
Lord's time, w T e made what haste w T e could to come 
to the country where we believed the Lord would 
have us to be, and we said, ' O Lord, if thou wilt be 
with us in our way, and give us bread to eat and 
raiment to put on, then, O Lord, thou shalt be our 
God.' And the Lord was with us, and gave us His 
sw r eet and comfortable presence." 

Richard Davies continued to reside in Wales for 
many years, and became an eminent instrument in 
the hands of his Divine Master, in gathering many 
from the barren mountains of an empty profession, to 
sit down in the silence of all flesh, and learn from the 
great Minister of ministers the manifestations of His 
holy will, and the mysteries of pure spiritual religion. 



CHAPTER XIV. 



GEORGE ROBINSON GOES TO JERUSALEM, AND MARY FISHER 
TO TURKEY. 

About the year 1657, several of the ministers raised 
up to testify to the universal grace of God through 
Christ, as the free offer of salvation to all mankind, were 
called forth by their divine Master, to bear witness to 
his goodness, as with their lives in their hands, among 
the semibarbarous inhabitants of the coasts of the 
Mediterranean sea. 

George Robinson, of London, believed it required 
of him to travel in the service of the gospel to Jeru- 
salem, and there bear his testimony to pure and spir- 



1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 149 

itual religion. Embarking from Leghorn in Italy, he 
landed at the port of Ptolemais, now called Acre, in 
the Levant, and thence proceeded to Joppa, and 
Ramlah, or Arimathea. But the Romish priests at 
Jerusalem, hearing of him, and understanding that 
his object was to decry the superstition of pilgrim- 
ages, which was their chief means of support, pro- 
cured his arrest and confinement. After a short im- 
prisonment, an old Turkish inhabitant of the place 
took him to his house, and for several days enter- 
tained him with much hospitality. At length there 
came an Irish friar from the Popish priests and friars 
at Jerusalem, who began to question him, whether he 
would, on his arrival at that ancient city, visit the 
various holy places, as they were called, pay the usual 
sums of money, and wear the customary habit of the 
pilgrims ? He was also enjoined not to speak any 
thing about religion, or against the Turkish laws 
which were in force there. George, however, was not 
at liberty to submit to terms, which would have fet- 
tered the operations of the Holy Spirit through him 
as an instrument of the divine will ; and stedfastly 
refusing to comply with their wishes, he was carried 
back by a guard of horse and foot soldiers to Joppa, 
and thence conveyed to Acre, where he had first 
landed. Here he was kindly entertained by an old 
French merchant, who was secretly drawn in sym- 
pathy towards him ; and feeling still a necessity laid 
upon him to endeavour to prosecute his journey, this 
merchant assisted him to return to Joppa, whence he 
again reached Ramlah on foot. On the road he was 
attacked by three robbers, who plundered him, but 
afterwards, moved perhaps by his innocent behaviour, 
or by the special interposition of Divine Providence, 
one of them returned what they had taken, and in a 
friendly manner conducted him on his journey. Ar- 
riving at Ramlah, he was again seized by the con- 
trivance of the friars, and carried into one of the 
Mahometan mosques ; where he was required, on 



150 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657. 

pain of death, to profess the Mahometan religion, in 
compliance with the custom of the Turks, that who- 
ever enters a mosque must embrace their religion or 
die. Some of their priests pressed him with much 
solicitation; but he persisting in his refusal, and in the 
true spirit of the martyrs declaring that he would 
rather die than violate his conscience by complying 
with their demand, they grew angry ; and delivering 
him to the executioner, he was hurried away to the 
place of execution, to be burnt to death. Here he 
was made to sit down upon the ground, as a sheep 
among wolves ; and as he sat, engaged in inward 
supplication, and resigned to the will of his divine 
Master, He whom he served was pleased to interpose 
for his deliverance ; the Turks began to fall out among 
themselves ; and a grave old man of note among them 
came up to him, and declared, that whether he would 
turn to their religion or not, he should not die. He 
was again interrogated, whether he would deny his 
Saviour ; to which he firmly answered, No ! The 
old man ordered his servants to conduct George to 
his house, where he treated him kindly for some days. 
But the friars still plotted against him, and hired a 
guard of horsemen to carry him to Gaza, before the 
Pacha, trusting that their insinuations had influenced 
this officer against him. But coming to Gaza, some 
of the Turks acquainted the Pacha with the malicious 
designs of the friars, and instead of complying with 
their wishes, he made them pay a considerable fine, 
and compelled them to convey George Robinson in 
safety to Jerusalem. Their own malice thus proving 
the means of his obtaining an official authority which 
they could not withstand, they now tried other arts on 
his arrival at their convent, to frustrate the object of 
his journey ; and like sycophants, began to flatter 
him, telling him that his preservation through so many 
enemies was miraculous, pretending that they had 
been misinformed about him, and offering that if he 
would visit their pretended holy places, as other pil- 



1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 151 

grims, he should do it without cost, instead of having 
to pay them considerable fees. But George, faithful 
to his testimony against the superstitious veneration 
for those places, replied, " I shall not visit them in your 
manner ; for in so doing I should sin against God." 
They told him that if he would conform,* they would 
honour him as much as they had honoured any Eng- 
lishman that had ever visited them ; but he told them 
he should not conform, and as for their honour, he 
mattered it not. They then became angry, and began 
to threaten to make him an example to all English- 
men who should come thither ; but he said, I choose 
your dishonour rather than your honour ; and told 
them, that they, under pretence of doing service to 
God, in visiting the places where the holy men dwelt, 
opposed and resisted that life which the holy men of 
God lived and walked in ; adding that he would have 
them turn from those evil practices, else the wrath of 
the Almighty would be kindled against them. They 
did not like such discourse, and replied that whether 
he would go to see their places or not, the Turks must 
be paid, and insisted that if he would not visit them, 
he must pay twenty-five dollars, " for the Turks" as 
they pretended ; though if he would visit their favour- 
ite relics, " they would pay the money for him." But 
he told them that he would not comply with any such 
unreasonable demands. 

They then brought him before one of the Turkish 
officers of the city, who, discoursing about the worship 
of the Christians, asked him the ground of his coming 
to Jerusalem. He answered, " that he came thither 
by the command of the Lord God of heaven and 
earth ; and that the great and tender love of God 
was made manifest in visiting them ; His compass- 
ionate mercies being such, that he would gather them 
in this the day of his gathering." Having now, as 
he believed, delivered the message with w 7 hich he had 
been commissioned to these people, having practically 
testified against their bigotry, and cleared his con- 



152 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657. 

science of their blood, he found great peace with the 
Lord, and returned home, magnifying His glorious 
name, who had preserved him through so many dan- 
gers, and provided a way for him in the midst of his 
enemies. It is remarkable, that the friars were com- 
pelled by the Turks to convey him back safely, and 
free of charge, to the port of his embarkation. 

Mary Fisher, who had now returned from the scene 
of persecutions in New England, felt an extraordinary 
concern in her mind, to pay a visit to the Sultan of 
Turkey, Mahomet IV. then encamped with his army 
near Adrianople. She proceeded as far as Smyrna, 
where the English Consul stopped her, and sent her 
back to Venice. Still, however, endeavouring to 
obey her Maker rather than man, she prosecuted her 
journey by another route, and travelling overland she 
arrived safely at Adrianople, a journey of five or six 
hundred miles. There she requested some of the 
inhabitants to accompany her to the camp ; but fear- 
ing the displeasure of the Sultan, they objected, and 
she was obliged to go alone. At the camp she sent a 
message to the Grand Vizier, that " there was an 
Englishwoman who had something to declare from 
the Great God to the Sultan" ; who sent her word that 
the next morning he would procure her an opportunity 
of an interview. Accordingly returning to the city 
that night, she went back to the camp at the time 
appointed, and was brought before the Sultan and his 
great officers of state. He asked her whether it was 
true that she had a message to him from the Almighty, 
to which she answering that it was so, he bid her speak 
on. She stood silent awhile, with her mind retired in 
inward waiting for the divine motion and power, to 
give weight and energy to what she had to deliver ; 
when the Sultan, supposing she might be fearful of 
expressing herself before them all, asked her whether 
she washed any of the company to retire. She an- 
swered, no ; and he then desired her to speak the 
word of the Lord to them, and not to fear, for they 



1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 153 

had good hearts, and would hear it ; strictly charging 
her to deliver the whole message, neither more nor 
less, for they were willing to hear it, be it what it 
might. She then in a weighty frame relieved her 
mind of what lay upon it, to which the Turks listened 
with much seriousness and gravity; and when she 
had finished, the Sultan asking her if she had any 
more to say ; she asked if he had understood what she 
had said '? To which he replied, " Yes, every word;" 
adding that it was truth, and respectfully inviting her 
to remain in the country. When he found that she 
wished to go to Constantinople in order to return 
home, he offered her a guard, saying that it was 
unsafe for her to travel alone, and that he would not, 
for any consideration, have any injury occur to her in 
his dominions. This, however, she modestly declined, 
confiding in the protection of that Divine Arm which 
had brought her thither. Then some of them asked 
her, what she thought of their prophet Mahomet? To 
w T hich she made a cautious reply, saying, " that she 
knew him not ; but Christ she knew, who w T as the true 
prophet, the Son of God, the Light of the world, that 
enlighteneth every man that cometh into the world." 
After some more conversation, she took her leave, 
and departing for Constantinople without a guard, 
arrived there safely, without the least injury or insult, 
and thence returned to England ; having experienced 
respectful kindness and attention from those called 
infidels, in remarkable contrast with the bigoted 
cruelty of men unworthily claiming the name of 
Christians, whom she had encountered in New Eng- 
land. 



14 



154 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1658. 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE SUFFERINGS OF CATHARINE EVANS AND SARAH CHEEVERS 

IN THE INQUISITION AT MALTA AND OF JOHN PHILLY 

AND WILLIAM MOOE.E IN HUNGARY, ETC. 

Tn the year 1658, Catharine Evans and Sarah 
Cheevers, under a religious concern to propagate, in 
the dark lands of superstition and ignorance, the 
doctrine of the divine Light of Christ in the heart of 
man, took passage in a ship bound from London to Leg- 
horn ; where arriving safely, they stayed some time, 
discoursing on religion with the people who came to 
them, and distributing the books of Friends, explan- 
atory of their principles. Hence they took passage 
in a Dutch ship bound to Alexandria ; but the master 
put into Malta ; and the women landing were met by 
the English Consul, gave him some books, and ac- 
cepted an invitation to his residence. Curiosity now 
drew many of the inhabitants to visit them, whom 
they found it laid upon them to call to repentance, and 
several w r ere seriously touched by their testimony. 
They went also to the nunnery, to see the governor's 
sister, where they conversed on religious subjects 
with the nuns, and distributed books. Here a priest 
found them, brought them into the chapel, and wanted 
them to bow before the high altar. But with abhor- 
rence of such idolatry they firmly refused, and went 
back to their abode at the British Consulate. During 
three months of their stay there, they were several 
times called before the officers of the Inquisition, and 
examined about their religious principles ; but through 
the wisdom with which they were furnished, they an- 
swered in such a manner as neither to give these men 
the advantage against them which they were seeking, 
nor to give away the cause of Truth by the least compli- 



1658.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 155 

ance with their superstitions. Indeed they often testified 
boldly against the bigotry so prevalent in that popish 
place. The Consul was at length bribed to violate 
the rights of hospitality and the duty of his official 
station ; and treacherously withdrew his protection 
so far as to allow their being taken by the officers of 
the Inquisition. By the lord inquisitor they were 
required to change their religion ; but stedfastly refus- 
ing, they were confined in a close, dark room, with 
only two little holes for light and air, and so extremely 
hot, that it seemed as if the intention was to stifle them 
to death. 

They w T ere brought under examination again and 
again, and continually beset with the impertinencies 
of monks and priests, to terrify or beguile them into 
conformity to their superstitions. But all their efforts 
were ineffectual ; these innocent women being too 
well established in that pure religion whose efficacy 
they had experienced, to be perverted therefrom by 
flattery, or terrified by threats, though daily in danger 
of their lives, and under dismal apprehensions of 
being led to the stake. It seemed, however, as if the 
intention of their keepers was rather to put them out 
of the way quietly, than to execute them in a public 
manner. They were put into a room so exceedingly 
hot and suffocating, that it was thought they could 
not long survive. They were often compelled to rise 
from their bed, and lie down at the chink of the door, 
to draw a breath of air. Their skin became parched, 
their hair fell off, and they frequently fainted away. 
They now wrote a remonstrance to the inquisitor, 
pleading their innocence, and complaining of the 
hardships to which they were subjected ; but he was 
so offended at it, that he ordered their ink-horns to be 
taken from them. He also gave orders for them to 
be separated, which added much to their grief, espe- 
cially as Catharine's sickness increased greatly, so 
that she was broken out in sores from head to foot ; 
and the doctor being sent for, declared that they must 



156 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1659. 

have air, or they would die. The inquisitor hereupon 
ordered the doors to be opened for six hours in the day. 
Ten weeks after this, they were separated, and told 
that they should never see each other more ; the friars 
hoping that by attacking them separately, they might 
be more able to prevail upon them. But in this they 
were disappointed, the Lord himself being their com- 
panion, enduing them with strength to resist all the 
attempts of their enemies, and even enabling them to 
speak boldly at various times in His name, to those 
who came to see them. Some considerable repairs 
to the inquisition were going on, which occupied about 
a year and a half, and often drew to the place many 
workmen and some of the persons in authority in the 
island, to whom these women had opportunities of 
declaring the Truth as it is in Jesus. But the friars 
were indefatigable in their endeavours, both by per- 
suasion and threats, to induce them to change their 
religion. Some of their language was exceedingly 
disgraceful to men professing religion, abounding as 
it did, in expressions bordering on blasphemy, and 
threats that these poor defenceless women should be 
covered over in a pile of chains, that they should be 
given to the devil, that they should never come out of 
the prison alive, that they should be burnt to death, 
or, that as Ananias and Sapphira were struck down 
dead by the word of the Lord through the apostles, 
so the friars would do to them. But their meek, yet 
firm reply was, that their persecutors might do what 
they would ; they did not fear ; that if they suffered, 
they were the Lord's, and trusted in Him ; that they 
were settled and grounded in the Truth, and the more 
they persecuted them, the stronger they grew. 
Sometimes they spoke so effectually to those who 
came to them, that they could not contradict them, 
but were struck with conviction. And Catharine's 
prison being at one time so near the street that she 
could be heard by the passers by, she frequently found 
it her duty to call them to repentance, and direct 



1660.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 157 

them to the Light of Christ, which would lead them 
from all sinful ways and worships, to serve and wor- 
ship God in spirit and in truth. Some would stay to 
listen as long as they dared, for the people were 
narrowly watched. Others, however, were hardened 
in wickedness, and maliciously threw stones at her 
window, as they passed to their place of worship. 

Several efforts were made by various persons to 
obtain their release. The treacherous consul, who 
had been miserable ever since their imprisonment, 
visited them, and made an ineffectual application to 
the inquisitor on their behalf, offering to return the 
money by which the friars had bribed him to allow 7 
of their arrest. But he died before any thing effectual 
was done towards their deliverance. Two English- 
men after this endeavoured, but to no purpose, to 
accomplish the same object. One Francis Stuart 
also, a sea captain, took great pains to obtain their 
liberty ; but the inquisitor professed inability to grant 
it, without an order from the Pope. They w T ere told 
that one impediment to their freedom w r as their having 
preached to the people while there : to which they 
replied, that they had testified to the truth, which they 
were willing to maintain with their blood. This Cap- 
tain Stuart was, however, admitted to see them, and 
told them with tears what he had done on their behalf, 
but in vain. He declared that if they could be set 
free, he would gladly give them a passage, and pro- 
vide for them in his ship ; and he offered them money. 
This they declined, but made sincere acknowledg- 
ments for his great kindness, and prayed for his pre- 
servation unto everlasting life. 

After Stuart was gone, they met with worse usage 
than before ; the taking aw r ay of their lives was again 
conspired, and their doors were shut up for many 
weeks. But they were still kept in great resignation, 
not daring even to beseech the Almighty for their 
owm deliverance, until it should be His will. 

They had now been confined nearly three years. 
14* 



158 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662. 

About the beginning of the year 1662, Daniel Baker, 
a friend, who had come from England to Leghorn 
with John Stubbs, and had thence travelled to Smyr- 
na, preaching the gospel to Papists, Jews and Maho- 
metans, came back by Malta, in sympathy with these 
afflicted women, and demanded their liberty of the 
inquisitor. His repeated solicitations, however, were 
ineffectual; but remaining nearly a month on the 
island, he frequently found means to visit the prisoners, 
at the hazard of his life ; being narrowly watched, and 
daily threatened with the inquisition. He adminis- 
tered to them spiritual consolation, assuring them that 
the church of God owned their testimony for His 
cause, " and they were a sweet savour unto the Lord 
and His people." And though they could only com- 
mune with him through the iron gratings of their 
windows, yet even this imperfect intercourse with one 
of their own countrymen, and a brother in the same 
faith, was a source of great refreshment to them in 
their long and hard imprisonment. 

They were still repeatedly plied with attempts by the 
friars to induce them to change their religion. Being 
promised a release if they would become " Catholics," 
they replied, "that they were already true Cath- 
olics" — the term properly signifying members of the 
universal church of Christ. They were told also, 
that if they would but kiss the cross, they should have 
their liberty : but conscious that this act, small in 
itself, would be sanctioning the idolatry and bigotry 
against which they had so long borne their testimony, 
they stedfastly refused to purchase their liberty or 
lives by such an act. 

At length George Fox and Gilbert Latey found 
means to procure their liberation. They applied to 
Lord D'Aubigny, an English papist, for his friendly 
interposition by writing to the magistrates of Malta; 
and his mediation was so successful, that Catharine 
and Sarah were soon released, after an imprisonment 
of nearly four years. After eleven weeks spent again 



1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 159 

at the British consulate, waiting for a vessel, they 
embarked for Leghorn, and thence passed to Tangier, 
at that time besieged by the Moors; notwithstanding 
which they entered the town, and had many opportu- 
nities of exhorting the people to amendment of life. 
They also visited the governor, who courteously re- 
ceived them, took their admonition in good part, and 
would have given them money. The Portuguese and 
Irish papists here were ready to do them mischief; 
but the governor threatened any of the garrison who 
should abuse or insult them, with severe punishment. 
And such was the favourable^ opinion which their 
integrity procured for them, that when they took ship 
from Tangier for England, several embarked with 
them, in preference to going in another vessel, be- 
lieving that on account of these pious women, they 
should have a safer passage. At length they arrived 
at home in safety, magnifying the divine mercy, mani- 
fested in their wonderful deliverance. 

In the early part of this year, John Philly and 
William Moore, being in Germany with some other 
Friends, felt a concern to proceed into Hungary, and 
visit the Hortesche brethren, a kind of Baptists, who 
refused to swear or fight, and who lived by hundreds 
together in families, having community of goods. 
They accordingly proceeded to the nearest body of 
these people, residing near Cushart, about a day's 
journey from Presburg, and were hospitably enter- 
tained. Here they dispersed some religious books, 
and had favourable opportunities for gospel labour 
among them, endeavouring to promote their growth 
in pure Christianity. They were by these people 
informed of another of their communities, settled 
three hundred miles further, at Pattock, in Upper 
Hungary. They therefore continued their journey 
towards Comora, on an island in the Danube, having 
their religious books with them. Here they were 
seized by the garrison, and carried before an inquisi- 
tor, who informed William, that the bringing of their 



160 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662. 

books into the country was a capital crime, and 
would cost him his life ; asking them if they did not 
know that "Catholics" had laws to burn and torment 
heretics, and any who carried such books. For 
more than a week, they were beset with attempts to 
induce them to profess the Popish religion, and threat- 
ened with the rack: which threats at length were put 
in execution. The inquisitor came to William, and 
told him that he was to be subjected to the rack, and 
afterwards was to lose his head. It seems that they 
professed to consider these Friends as spies, in order 
to justify in some degree the cruelties they designed 
to inflict upon them. It was in vain that William 
pleaded his innocence ; he was put to the rack, 
whereby his thumbs were exceedingly pinched by 
iron screws, his arm dislocated, and . his back and 
many of his joints twisted and bent by tight cords ; 
his chin was drawn close to his breast, and his mouth 
and throat so distorted, that, he was almost choked. 
Then John was brought, who not seeing his com- 
panion, supposed that he had been hung on a gallows 
which was in the place : he also was put to the tor- 
ture in the midst of his protestations of innocence. 
They were now told, that it would soon be deter- 
mined by w T hat mode they should lose their lives. 
The inquisitor required William to put in writing 
the principal tenets of his religion, and intercepted a 
letter which they wrote to the governor remonstrating 
against these cruelties. After about sixteen weeks' 
imprisonment, they were conveyed in chains to 
General Nadasti; and passing under a sort of 
examination before him and several other lords 
of that country, they were condemned to be burn- 
ed, if they did not submit to embrace the Popish 
religion. Under this dismal sentence John Philly 
was divinely supported, and encouraged his com- 
panion, in a full persuasion that the power of the 
Almighty would still open a way for the preserva- 
tion of their lives, by dividing the counsels of their 



1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 161 

persecutors ; which proved to be the case. They 
were now sent to a place near Vienna, where they 
were searched by the priests, their books and papers 
taken away, and they were threatened with most 
cruel tortures. Manacles were locked on their wrists, 
so tight as to make them cry out with pain, and they 
were thrust into a narrow hole along with some 
Turkish prisoners, and not allowed straw, or scarce- 
ly room to lie down. William Moore became 
much discouraged at their disconsolate situation, 
being again threatened to be burned to death; 
and crying to the Almighty for help, he was encou- 
raged, by means of a dream, to believe the Lord 
would provide for their safety. The very same day, a 
message came from a certain earl in authority there, 
expressing his displeasure at these rigorous proceed- 
ings of the priests. 

It was now resolved by these men to separate the 
two Friends, and William was violently and clandes- 
tinely carried off in a sled over the snow, to a con- 
vent several miles distant in a wilderness, where he 
was laid in chains, and the next day blindfolded and 
put into a deep dungeon ; a Jew there being threat- 
ened with death if he gave any intelligence of him. 
Here he was kept four days and nights, in severe frosty 
weather, with nothing to subsist upon but bread and 
water ; and he was apprehensive that their intention 
was privately to murder him in this secret place. 

After about twelve days' imprisonment, they re- 
newed their attempts to convert him to the Romish 
religion; but he still remaining inflexibly firm to that 
faith, the divine efficacy of which he had experienced, 
they a^gain had recourse to menaces, threatening at 
one time to cut out his tongue, and at another, to flay 
him alive, if he would not turn papist. 

There was a man named Adam Bien, a barber to 
the above-mentioned earl, who at the place of their 
confinement, near Vienna, had found means some- 
times to have access to them, and had been reached 



162 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1662. 

by their pious discourse, and in good degree con- 
vinced of the truth of their principles. This man 
commiserated much their suffering condition, and 
exerted himself indefatigably to obtain their release. 
By some means he found out the place of William's 
detention, notwithstanding the secrecy maintained by 
the priests, and supplied him with some refreshments. 
The earl being seized with sickness, from which 
his recovery was doubtful, Adam, who had influ- 
ence with this nobleman, seized this opportunity of 
renewing his solicitations in their favour, and finally 
succeeded in obtaining an order for their release. 
They were then set at liberty, and though turned 
adrift without any money, which had all been taken 
away from them, and in a country infested with war, 
yet they were favoured to arrive in safety among their 
friends. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



EDWARD BURROUGH AND RICHARD HUBBERTHORN, BEING 
VIOLENTLY SEIZED AT THE BULL AND MOUTH MEETING, 
DIE IN PRISON. 

During the year 1662, died Edward Burrough, a 
witness unto death for the cause of a good conscience 
toward God. We have seen by what process of 
mental experience and refinement he was brought to 
a knowledge of the Truth as it is in Jesus, and how, 
about the eighteenth year of his age, his Divine Mas- 
ter saw fit to make use of him to sound the glad 
tidings of the Gospel to his fellow-men. His ministry 
was powerful and reaching, his doctrine sound, and 
his language eloquent; having learned in the best 
school, that of Christ himself, and been prepared for 



1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 163 

the ministry by the immediate teachings of the Spirit of 
Truth, gradually leading unto the living experience of 
holiness, and clothing him with ardent desires for the 
salvation of mankind. 

His own example gave efficacy to his ministry. 
He lived as he advised others to live, in the fear 
of his Maker, and in a sense of His omnipre- 
sence. His natural disposition was bold and man- 
ly, tempered w T ith innocence ; his conversation affa- 
ble and instructive, circumscribed by great watch- 
fulness over himself. His Christian courage in the 
fulfilment of his duty w 7 as remarkable, an instance of 
which we may here mention. 

On one of his frequent visits to London, he passed 
by a place, where a number of rude muscular men 
w r ere exhibiting feats of wrestling, before a multitude 
of idle people, who stood gazing at them outside a 
ring. He saw how one strong and dexterous fellow 
had already thrown three others, and was waiting for a 
fourth champion, if any durst venture to enter the lists. 
At length, none being bold enough to try, Edward 
Burrough stepped within the ring ; and looking upon 
the wrestler with a serious countenance, the man was 
not a little surprised, instead of an airy antagonist, to 
meet w r ith a grave and awful young man. All stood 
amazed at the sight, wondering what would be the 
issue of this contest. But it was quite another fight 
that Edward aimed at. He began very seriously to 
speak to the by-standers, and that with such a heart- 
piercing power, that he was heard by this mixed and 
rude multitude with no less attention than admiration. 
His speech tended to turn them from darkness to light, 
and from the power of Satan unto God. To efiect 
this, he laboured with convincing power, showing 
how God had not left himself without a witness, but 
had graciously enlightened every man with the light 
of Christ. Thus zealously he preached; and though 
many might look on this as a novelty, yet it was of 
such effect, that some were convinced of the truth. 



164 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662. 

He travelled in many parts of England, Ireland, 
Scotland and Flanders, in the exercise of his minis- 
terial gift, meeting with repeated sufferings and im- 
prisonments. But his principal field of labour was 
London and its neighbourhood, where his ministry 
was effectual to the conversion of many. His gospel 
solicitude for the inhabitants of that city was so warm, 
that when persecution grew hot, he said to his bosom 
friend, Francis Howgill : " I can freely go to that 
city, and lay down my life for a testimony to that 
truth, which I have declared through the Spirit and 
power of God." And being this year on a visit 
to Friends in Bristol, in taking leave of them, he 
said, " he did not know that he should see their 
faces any more ;" and therefore exhorted them to 
faithfulness ; adding to some, " I am now going up to 
London again, to lay down my life for the Gospel, 
and suffer among Friends in that place." 

About that time the rage of persecution was such, 
that it was estimated there were five hundred Friends 
in prison at one time in London alone ; and the 
Friends who met for divine worship at the " Bull-and- 
Mouth" meeting, near the centre of the metropolis, 
were particularly exposed to the merciless violence of 
the magistrates and soldiery. The soldiers came 
several successive First-days, with muskets, lighted 
matches, pikes, and halberts, conducted by an oliicer, 
with a drawn sword in one hand, and a cane in the 
other. They usually entered with violent rushing 
and uproar, to terrify the assembly, commanding the 
people to be gone ; and then shamefully attacked both 
men and women with canes and clubs, threatening to 
fire at them, and even striking them with swords, and 
the butt-ends of their muskets, in such a manner that 
some fainted away, and others survived their injuries 
but a short time. 

On one occasion, when the meeting was near 
breaking up, Major-general Richard Brown entered 
the house with a party of men with drawn swords, in 



1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. • 165 

a manner rude and terrifying beyond expression ; and 
ordering the doors to be made fast, they fell upon the 
innocent assembly, engaged in the most solemn act 
of worshipping their Maker ; and without regard to 
age or sex, dealt such unmerciful and unmanly blows 
on men and women with their swords and cudgels, 
cutting, bruising, and levelling those before them, as 
bore an appearance of open hostility beyond what 
had ever been seen in a time of peace. Six or eight 
together being knocked down, were dragged out and 
laid in the gutters senseless, and apparently half dead, 
with the wounds and bruises they had received. 
Their blood flowed visibly in the street, so that the 
passers by, struck with compassion for this unoffend- 
ing people, cried, " Shame" upon the perpetrators, 
and for their compassionate expressions obtained 
also their share of similar abuse. Many of these 
Friends w T ere so much injured, as to keep their beds for 
a considerable time, and one died of the wounds he 
there received. Thomas Ellwood was among those 
thus seized on one of these occasions, along with 
many more Friends; and the prisons in London w^ere 
literally thronged with this people for several months. 
Not long after Edward Burrough's arrival in Lon- 
don this year, he attended this meeting; and while he 
was preaching the gospel, he was violently pulled 
down by soldiers, and committed, with many others, 
to Newgate prison. Here, being thrust into crowded 
rooms, among the vilest felons, besides the great an- 
noyance to which, from the filthy character of these 
criminals, and the dirty state of the prison, Friends 
were subjected, they were also witnesses of such vile 
and wicked conduct and conversation, as brought 
grief and sorrow on their souls. Having lain here 
some w r eeks, Edward was brought to trial at the Old 
Bailey, fined by the court twenty marks, without 
authority of any law, and condemned to lie in prison 
till he should pay the fine. As the deed for which he 
and his brethren w T ere condemned, viz., meeting for 

15 



166 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662. 

the worship of God, was in their estimation no crime, 
but an act of indispensable duty to their Maker and 
Redeemer ; and as a voluntary and active compli- 
ance with the penalty would have been a tacit con- 
fession of guilt, a giving away of the cause, and a 
balking of their testimony to the Truth ; they durst 
not, for conscience sake, pay the fine ; so that this 
sentence amounted to perpetual imprisonment, unless 
released by the king. 

Being thus immured in prison with six or seven 
Score of his Friends, and so many crowded into one 
room as to make it even suffocating, many of them 
grew sick and died ; of which number he was one. 
A special order from the king was sent to the she- 
riffs for his release and that of some others ; but so 
implacable was the malice of some of the city magis- 
trates, that they found means to evade the execution 
of this order. Edward being consequently still de- 
tained in prison, his disease gained upon him, and 
threatened approaching dissolution. But this holy 
man being raised above the fear of death, supported 
by the consolatory review of a life spent in the service 
of his Creator, and comforted by a consciousness of 
no wilful omission of duty, and an inward sense of 
freedom from the power and guilt of sin, through the 
effectual operation and atonement of Him who came 
to put an end to sin and take away its guilt, he made 
the following solemn and affecting appeal : " I have 
had the testimony of the Lord's love unto me from 
my youth ; and my heart, O Lord, hath been given 
up to do thy will. I have preached the gospel freely 
in this city, and have often given up my life for the 
Gospel's sake. And now, O Lord, rip open my heart, 
and see if it be not right before thee !" Again he said : 
" There is no iniquity lies at my door ; but the pre- 
sence of the Lord is with me, and His life, I feel, 
justifies me." His friends about him he exhorted 
" to live in love and peace, and love one another :" 
and praying for his enemies and persecutors, he said, 



1662.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 167 

* l Lord, forgive Richard Brown, if he may be for- 
given" — who was the chief agent of the persecution. 
Being sensible that his dissolution drew near, he 
thus memorably expressed his faith : " Though this 
body of clay must turn to dust, yet I have a testi- 
mony that I have served God faithfully in my gener- 
ation ; and that spirit that hath lived and acted and 
ruled in me, shall yet break forth in thousands." The 
morning before his departure, he said, "Now my 
soul and spirit is centered into its own being with 
God, and this form of person must return whence it 
was taken;" and shortly afterwards he expired, 
having been a zealous preacher of righteousness 
about ten years, though only in the twenty-eighth 
year of his age. 

Richard Hubberthorn was another of those who, 
violently dragged away from the meeting at the 
" Bull-and-Mouth, finished their earthly course this 
year in prison, for the testimony of a pure con- 
science. He had been a soldier in the army of the 
commonwealth, but early joined George Fox in the 
better warfare against sin and spiritual darkness ; 
and receiving ability to direct others in the sure way 
to the kingdom of Heaven, became one of the first 
and most eminent ministers of the society of Friends. 
But after many travels and deep sufferings for the 
cause of truth, being seized this year at the aforesaid 
meeting, he was carried before that implacable ma- 
gistrate, Richard Brown; who giving vent to his 
passion as usual, pulled this inoffensive man down 
by the hat, with such fury that he brought his head 
almost to the ground, and then committed him to the 
noisome prison of Newgate. 

His infirm constitution was so affected with the 
throng and vitiated air of this doleful place, that he 
presently grew sick, and after about two months im- 
prisonment was taken away by death. His end ex- 
hibited the happy result of a life spent in righteous- 
ness and the pursuit of peace ; being enabled in his 



168 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662. 

last moments to look forward, in full assurance of 
faith, to the near approach of future happiness. To 
some of his friends he expressed, that "he knew the 
ground of his salvation, and was satisfied for ever of 
his peace with the Lord ;" and at another time, he 
said : " That faith which hath wrought my salvation, 
I well know, and have grounded satisfaction in it." 
The greatest part of the time of his sickness he 
passed in inward retirement and meditation, in great 
resignation and stillness; and towards his close he 
requested his friends not to hold him, for the body 
was too strait for him, and he was to be lifted up on 
high, far above all mortal or corporeal restraints. 
And thus, in a frame of mind prepared for an en- 
trance into the kingdom of glory, he finished his 
earthly course, and doubtless obtained that eternal 
reward laid up for those who are faithful unto death. 



CHAPTER XVII 



THE SUFFERINGS OF ELIZABETH HOOTON AND OTHERS IN 

NEW ENGLAND. 

Before passing to other matters, we may revert 
for a short time to a continuance, this year and the 
next, of the dismal scenes of persecution, which still 
disgraced the profession of Christianity in New Eng- 
land. 

Among the companions in prison of Wenlock 
Christison, before alluded to, were Elizabeth Hooton, 
the first female minister among Friends, and Joan 
Brocksup, each about sixty years of age; who on 
being released from captivity were driven into the 
wilderness, and left there exposed to the wild beasts 



1662.] THE SOCIETY .OF FRIENDS. 169 

of the forest, without provisions, to wander in great 
danger through places uninhabited and scarcely pass- 
able, until at length they came to Rhode Island. 
Thence they went to Barbadoes ; and still feeling 
bound to testify in New England against the spirit 
of persecution prevalent there, they returned to that 
colony. On coming to Boston, however, they were 
presently apprehended, and sent away to Virginia, 
whence Elizabeth Hooton returned to England. 

After remaining a short time in her native country, 
she found herself not yet clear, without making a 
third attempt to deliver the message of her Lord 
and Master. Accordingly, preparing for her depar- 
ture, she made application to the King, and obtain- 
ed from him a license to settle in any of the British 
colonies. She and her daughter set sail for Boston; 
and immediately on their arrival the magistrates 
would have fined the master of the vessel one hun- 
dred pounds for bringing her, but for the king's 
license which she carried with her. This instru- 
ment nevertheless did not prevent them from in- 
dulging their malicious dispositions against this de- 
voted woman ; for at Dover she was set in the 
stocks, and kept four days in prison in cold wea- 
ther. At Cambridge she was imprisoned, two days 
and nights, in a close stinking dungeon, without 
anything to sit or lie down upon, and without so 
much as bread and water to sustain her. And 
when a friend in sympathy brought her a little 
milk, to prevent her from perishing under their 
hands, he was arbitrarily fined five pounds and sent 
to prison. 

Elizabeth was then whipped through Cambridge, 
Watertown and Dedham, with a three-corded whip 
having three knots at the end ; and in this mangled 
condition was carried on horse-back many miles 
into the wilderness, in frosty weather, and there left 
at the hazard of her life, exposed to wild beasts, 
which at that time abounded in the forests. Her 
15* 



170 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1662. 

persecutors seem to have even expected that she 
would perish by this exposure, as they expressed 
their hopes that " they should never see her any 
more." But the Lord in mercy preserved his servant 
safe through the dismal forests and deep waters which 
she had to cross, to a place called Rehoboth, where 
she arrived the next day. Thence she made her 
way to Rhode Island, praising and magnifying the 
Most High, whose supporting hand had been merci- 
fully displayed for her preservation. 

But her sufferings had not yet satiated the malice 
of a persecuting magistracy, backed by the vindic- 
tive priests. As they had sent her away without her 
clothing, she returned, accompanied by her daughter, 
to a place near Cambridge, in order to obtain her 
property. But as they were coming back towards 
Rhode Island, they were apprehended, along with 
Sarah Coleman, an ancient woman who had fallen 
in company with them in the woods ; and all three 
were taken back to Cambridge, abused by the scho- 
lars there, and then whipped and committed to the 
house of correction. No just cause was assigned for 
this cruel treatment of inoffensive women, who were 
going about their lawful occasions. They were sent 
out of the colony, being whipped in three towns on 
their way to Rhode Island. Elizabeth after this re- 
turning to Boston to preach repentance to the inhabi- 
tants, was again sent to the house of correction, 
whipped at the whipping post, and afterwards at 
Roxbury and Dedham at a cart's tail, taken as before 
in a mangled condition into the wilderness, and left 
there in the cold weather, to make her way, twenty 
miles, back to Rhode Island. And soon after, re- 
turning to Boston once more, she was again impri- 
soned, whipped from the prison door to the end of 
the town, and sent away with an order to whip her 
from town to town, and a threat that " if ever she 
came thither again, they would either put her to 
death or brand her on the shoulder." Thus was this 



1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 171 

devoted woman, who was of reputable character 
and substance, and perfectly peaceable and inoffen- 
sive, for her faithful endeavours to perform her gos- 
pel mission, cruelly persecuted with three imprison- 
ments, nine severe whippings, and two perilous ex- 
posures in the wilderness to perish by wild beasts, 
or by cold and starvation. But though her afflictions 
thus abounded, yet her inward consolations did much 
more abundantly flow ; under the precious enjoyment 
of which, she declared her willingness to endure 
much more, for the propagation of righteousness, and 
for her love for the souls of her fellow-creatures. 

During this same year, tl^ee other women, Mary 
Tomkins, Alice Ambrose, and Anne Coleman, went 
into the neighbourhood of Piscataqua River, to visit 
their friends in gospel love, and endeavour to confirm 
them in the truth. Soon after their arrival, one Ray- 
ner, a priest of Dover, exciting the magistrates to 
their usual persecuting measures, they were seized, 
condemned to be fastened to a cart's tail, and thus 
dragged through the country, and whipped in all the 
towns they passed through, until they should be out 
of the limits of that government. This order was 
cruelly executed at Dover, while the priest stood by 
and laughed at these innocent women's tortures. 
Being reproved for this cruel levity, by two by-stan- 
ders, the magistrates cause them both to be placed 
in the stocks. The women were again whipped at 
Hampden and Salisbury ; but afterwards a person 
to whom they were entrusted, commiserating their 
case, at his own risk set them at liberty, and thus 
saved them from the infliction of similar cruelty in 
several other townships through which they would 
have had to pass. 

After a little time, not feeling released from their 
religious engagement, they returned to Dover ; and 
being met together with other Friends on the First- 
day of the week, Alice Ambrose knelt in prayer to 
God. Whilst she was occupied in this most solemn 



172 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662. 

engagement, two constables entered the meeting, and 
seizing her each by an arm, inhumanly forced her 
out of doors, and dragged her with her face down- 
wards, over the snow, which was knee-deep, and 
over large stumps* and logs, for nearly a mile. They 
then returned for Mary Tomkins, and treated her 
in the same barbarous manner. The next morning, 
which was excessively cold, they forced them into a 
canoe, together w T ith their companion Anne Coleman, 
and carried them to the mouth of the harbour, threat- 
ening that they would now so dispose of them, that 
they would be troubled with them no more. And 
because these poor defenceless women were not will- 
ing to go, they forced them down a very steep place 
in the snow, dragging Mary Tomkins again over 
stumps of trees to the w 7 ater side, whereby being 
much bruised, she fainted under their hands. Alice 
Ambrose they pulled into the water, and kept her 
swimming by the canoe, in great danger of drown- 
ing or of being frozen to death. It seems indeed as 
if their intent was nothing short of taking aw r ay the 
lives of their victims ; in which however they w^ere 
frustrated by a storm, which drove them back to the 
house where they had kept these poor women all the 
previous night. Here they detained them till near 
midnight, and then turned them out of doors in the 
frost and snow, although Alice's clothes were frozen 
as hard as boards. The barbarity exercised against 
these innocent women was such, that in all probabi- 
lity they must have perished, had not a merciful 
Providence interfered for their preservation. 

The next year, Anne Coleman was again appre- 
hended, and with several other Friends, cruelly 
whipped through Salem, Boston and Dedham ; and 
the severity of the whipping was such — the thongs of 
the whip wrapping around her body and the knots 
tearing her breast — ihat it was thought her life must 
fall a sacrifice to the malice of her persecutors. 

Edward Wharton, also, a respectable inhabitant 



1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 173 

of Salem, but who bore the hated name of a Quaker, 
was a particular mark for the malice of these unre- 
lenting men. Not being able, after many cruel in- 
flictions, to induce him to promise to come no more 
to the religious meetings of his Friends at Boston, he 
was by order of Governor Endicot, led to the market 
place, bound to the wheels of a great gun, and bar- 
barously whipped with thirty stripes to such a 
degree, that it was testified that peas might lie in the 
holes made in his flesh by the knots of the whip. 
His body was much swollen and black from his waist 
upwards. In this sad condition they led him about 
the country, as if to expose him to the people as a 
spectacle, and terrify them with the notion of their 
unlimited power. 

The eyes of the people however began to be open- 
ed, to see the enormity of these rigorous measures 
exercised against an unoffending portion of their fel- 
low-citizens ; and Governor Endicot being taken 
away by death, and several of his coadjutors also 
removed, the magistrates became more cautious of 
provoking public sentiment by continued persecutions. 
Through all the severities which had been exercised, 
the Society of Friends had held on their way, trust- 
ing in the Lord their preserver, and had continued 
to spread over the colony, though trodden under foot 
of men. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE EXTRAVAGANCIES OF JOHN PERROT. 

The Society of Friends was steadily pursuing its 
path, and increasing in numbers, notwithstanding 
the persecutions to which its members were every 
where subjected. But it was not to be expected that 



174 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662 

every individual who was found within its precincts 
should have been rightly prepared for the station 
which he might have assumed. It would have been 
indeed remarkable, if in the multitude of those who 
went forth in that day of zeal, in the service of the 
ministry, there had not been instances of men who 
had taken upon them (perhaps mistakenly) the office 
of a gospel minister, without waiting for the prepara- 
tion and the call. And it would have been still more 
surprising if such forward spirits had proved firm in 
the day of outward trial, or of inward fascinations 
and snares of the enemy. 

John Perrot was one who at this time caused 
great distress and trouble to the faithful members 
of the Society, from giving way to self importance 
and extravagant notions. He had joined the So- 
ciety early, and had probably too soon taken upon 
himself the ministerial office. He travelled consider- 
ably, and about the year 1660 conceived that he 
must go to Rome to convert the pope. He obtained 
the company of John Love, and travelled as far as 
Leghorn ; where they were both taken up and ex- 
amined by the inquisition. But the answers they 
gave were so satisfactory that they were soon dis- 
missed. Thence they proceeded to Venice, and 
afterwards to Rome, where they were soon again 
apprehended ; John Love being put into the inquisi- 
tion, and John Perrot being shut up in a madhouse. 
The former, who is supposed to have been a sincere 
man, died in prison, not without suspicion of being 
murdered there ; for though the officers of the inqui- 
sition gave out that he had fasted to death, some 
nuns are said to have acknowledged that he was 
privately dispatched in the night, for testifying 
against their idolatry. It is clear that ^ohn Perrot 
was at this time exceedingly puffed up with spirit- 
ual pride ; for he wrote, whilst in prison, some 
epistles to be printed in England, in so affected a 
style as bespoke him almost bewildered in his mind ; 



1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 175 

signing only his first name, John, and otherwise 
making very extravagant assumptions, apparently 
in imitation of the manner of writing of the great 
apostle of Patmos. 

At length, through the solicitation of Friends to 
some person of influence there, he was released from 
confinement, and returned to England. And though 
he had come away without having accomplished the 
object of his mission, or so far as appears, having even 
seen the Pope, yet the exaggerated report of his suf- 
ferings abroad, and a great appearance of sanctity, 
gained him a sort of compassionate affection and 
esteem with weak minds; and his self-importance 
increased to such a degree, that he thought himself 
further enlightened than George Fox and the rest of 
his friends ; and as an evidence of it, he maintained 
that the custom of putting oft* their hats in joining in 
public prayer, was only a piece of formality, and 
ought not to be practised. The next extravagance he 
adopted, was to let his beard grow, in which he was 
followed by several of his partisans. George Fox 
and the principal body of Friends, foreseeing the dan- 
ger of the minds of the members being drawn off from 
attention to the necessary work of inward sanctifica- 
tion, into contention about outward observances of 
little or no importance, exerted their endeavours to 
prevent the spreading of the defection. This, how- 
ever, went on for some years, till Perrot manifested 
more clearly, by the instability and enormity of his 
conduct, the error of his spirit, and the depravity of 
his heart. He went to America, and was there led 
into fleshly liberties, fantastically putting on gaudy 
apparel, and wearing a sword ; and under the pre- 
tence of being above forms, went so far at length as 
to reckon meeting for divine worship a form, and by 
his example and doctrine led many to forsake the 
assembling of themselves together. And after a time, 
having obtained some post under the government, he 
who had before professed that Christ had forbidden 



176 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1662. 

all swearing, is said to have rendered himself con- 
spicuous, as a most rigid exactor of oaths. 

Perrot's followers, as observed above, were not 
without the faithful admonitions and warnings of their 
brethren. George Fox, ever alive to the welfare of 
the flock, felt it his duty to appoint a meeting in Lon- 
don with those who had been seduced into this sepa- 
ration, and also addressed them more than once by 
letter, endeavouring to restore them to a sound under- 
standing, and to unity with the body ; and through the 
divine blessing attending the labours of love extended 
by him and his friends, most of these people in Eng- 
land were at length recovered, acknowledged their 
error, and returned into the unity of the Society. 

In America, the wild notions which Perrot had sown, 
continued in some places, for several years, to bear 
bitter fruit. John Burnyeat, in 1665, travelling in 
Virginia, found many who had been led astray into 
these fanciful notions. They had almost forsaken the 
practice of meeting for divine worship, scarcely as- 
sembling together once a year. Of course they lost 
ground in religion, which was manifested by a general 
backsliding. They had laid aside the plainness of 
their profession in dress and language, and were be- 
come loose and light in their conduct. The offence of 
the cross had ceased, and the power of godliness, as 
well as the form, was lost. So that John Burnyeat 
found it difficult to get a meeting with them. But he 
was not a man whose zeal was easily discouraged. 
When he saw their reluctance to grant him a public 
meeting, he did not leave them under their delusion, 
but sought private opportunities with them, to con- 
vince them of their mistakes, and to vindicate the 
principles and practice of the Society, in diligently 
meeting to wait together upon God, and endeavouring 
to walk before Him in all orderly conversation and 
sobriety, and to fulfil all their social and moral duties 
among mankind. By perseverance in repeated visits 
and conferences of this kind, he at length obtained a 



1665.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 177 

meeting with them ; which being favoured with the 
overshadowing of divine power, was very conducive 
to open the understandings of several to perceive their 
error, and to the revival of more regard to their reli- 
gious duties. And by the continuance of his gospel 
labours, and the renewed convictions of the Spirit of 
Truth in their hearts, many came in time to see 
through the wiles of the enemy, and to be again ser^ 
viceable in the Society. Some years afterwards, 
returning to Virginia, he found an open door for his 
labours, and was successful in promoting among them 
the establishment of meetings for discipline, for the 
further help of those who had not yet been entirely 
reclaimed. 

After this, travelling in New England, at Salem he 
met with the devastating effects of the same spirit. 
But patiently labouring among them, several had their 
consciences so awakened, as to let them also see their 
mistake, condemn it, and return into unity with the 
bodv. 



CHAPTER XIX. 



RISE OF THE SOCIETY IN SCOTLAND. 

Having traced the origin of the people called Qua- 
kers in England, and noticed the foothold which they 
had now obtained on the continent of America and 
some of the West India islands, we may next turn our 
attention to the progress of pure, evangelical truth in 
Scotland. 

There were scattered in various parts of that 

country, about the middle of the seventeenth century, 

pious individuals, who, weary and heavy laden under 

a sense of their own manifold short-comings, believed 

16 



178 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1654-9. 

there was to be known a more purely spiritual way 
of worship and of life and conduct, than that to which 
they, or any with whose profession they were ac- 
quainted had attained. Being greatly burdened with 
the formality, superstition, and will-worship prevalent 
around them, under which the public preachers gene- 
rally detained their hearers, these serious inquirers 
had separated from the several congregations of the 
people ; and at length some of them began to meet 
together by themselves, waiting upon God in a holy 
silence and deep humility of soul, for ability to draw 
near to him in true spiritual worship. They were 
thus at times made sensible of the quickening virtue, 
power, and life of the Holy Spirit, enabling some of 
them to speak forth the praises of the Almighty, and 
from an inward experience of His goodness, to extend 
instrumentally a hand of help to others. 

Such religious meetings appear to have been held 
at Drumbowy and Heads, in the south of Scotland, as 
early as the year 1653 ; and the first preachers thus 
raised up among them were William Osborne, a 
colonel in the army, Richard Rae and Alexander 
Hamilton. These meetings had been established a 
full year, before any in actual connexion with Friends 
found them out and visited them. The feet of several 
gospel messengers were, however, soon turned in this 
direction, as Christopher Fell, George Wilson, John 
Grave, George Atkinson, Sarah Cheevers, and Cath- 
arine Evans. In 1654, Myles Halhead, and James 
Lancaster, and in 1655, William Caton, and John 
Stubbs, travelled into Scotland ; and George Fox was 
at Edinburgh in 1657. James Nayler is supposed to 
have preached in some parts of Scotland as early as 
1651 ; but he does not appear to have fallen in with 
the above mentioned little flock. John Burnyeat was 
led to travel as far north as Aberdeen, in 1658, and 
met with some meetings of Friends ; and in 1659, 
Stephen Crisp, of Essex, who had then recently come 
forth in the ministry, found it laid upon him by his 



1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 179 

Divine Master, " to go and bear witness to His name 
in Scotland, that high professing nation." " Oh !" 
says he, " how I would have pleaded my own inabil- 
ity, the care of my family, my service in that particu- 
lar meeting, and many more things ; and all, that I 
might have been excused from this one thing. But 
after many reasonings, days and weeks by myself, I 
thought it best to speak of it to some of the faithful 
elders and ministers of the everlasting gospel, not 
knowing but they might discourage me; but they 
laid it upon me to be faithful. The winter drew nigh, 
and something [in my mind] would have deferred it 
till next summer ; but the Lord showed me it was not 
to be my time, but his time. Then, I would have gone 
by sea ; but the Lord withstood me, and showed me 
it must not be my way, but Ms way ; and if I would 
be obedient, he would be with me and prosper my 
journey ; otherwise his hand would strike me. So I 
gave up all, and with cheerfulness obeyed, went forth, 
and visited the churches of Christ. I quickly per- 
ceived that the Lord was with me ; — my journey 
became joyful ; — in every place, my testimony was 
owned, and divers were convinced of the everlasting 
Truth. I got into Scotland in the Ninth month, and 
travelled to and fro that winter, on foot, with cheer- 
fulness — and in about five or six months time, was, by 
the good hand of God, brought home to my w r ife, and 
children, and relations ; in all my journey having 
been sw r eetly accompanied with the presence of the 
Lord ; and his power often filled my earthen vessel, 
and made my cup to overflow. Praises forever to 
his name ! saith my soul." 

The gospel messages of these and other zealous 
ministers, reached the consciences of many who 
heard them ; yet with regard to Aberdeen and the 
district thereabouts, no open espousal of the principles 
of Friends took place, until William Dewsbury was 
drawn, towards the end of the year 1662, in love to 
these prepared and panting souls, to proclaim among 



180 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1663. 

them " the acceptable year of the Lord," even deliver- 
ance from the bondage of corruption, by the law of 
the spirit of life in Christ Jesus. Thus was the re- 
markable work of convincement — which had been 
secretly going on in some hearts for several years, 
through many deep conflicts of spirit, — helped for- 
ward to such a point, that they were made willing to 
take up the daily cross, though in various respects as 
bitter as death, and to follow the guidance of Christ 
by his Spirit within them, whithersoever he should be 
pleased to lead. Alexander Jaflray, formerly chief 
magistrate of the city of Aberdeen, and one of the 
foremost in this little but noble band, declared that 
when first he heard that God had raised up a people 
in England, directing all to His pure light, Spirit, and 
grace in their own hearts, as the most sure Teacher 
and Leader into all truth, religion, and worship, his 
very heart did leap within him for joy. 

George Gray, a poor weaver, but a man of very 
good repute for sincerity and the correctness of his 
life, was another of the early instruments in gathering 
the church in the neighbourhood of Aberdeen. He 
received from his Divine Master a gift in the ministry 
of the gospel ; and though poor as to this world, and 
barely acquainted with the very rudiments of learn- 
ing, the word of God's wisdom dwelt richly in him, 
and his understanding became much enlarged in 
heavenly experience. And being, through watchful- 
ness, preserved and directed in the exercise of his 
ministerial gift, he was made instrumental to the edi- 
fication and great refreshment of the Lord's heritage. 
Many indeed confessed their admiration at the excel- 
lent matter, utterance and connexion observed in the 
preaching of one so devoid of human learning, and 
yet so thoroughly furnished, in all respects, unto his 
holy calling. Thus was clearly held up to view, 
what it is that constitutes the best adorning of gospel 
ministers, and what is the only right qualification for 
speaking " as the oracles of God." 



1666.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 181 

Nancy Sim, who was also in low pecuniary cir- 
cumstances, readily opened her house, at a place 
called Ardiharrald, for religious meetings. But the 
people flocked to them so greatly, that her house 
would by no means contain them ; and they were 
often obliged to meet in the open field. Thus did the 
word of the Lord prevail ; and such as were made 
willing to yield to it, esteemed it more than their 
necessary food ; so that they could unite with the 
prophet Jeremiah, in acknowledging : " Thy word 
was unto me the joy and rejoicing of my heart." 

But the principal instrument in these parts, for the 
gathering of many from the barren mountains of an 
empty profession, to feed in the green pastures of life, 
under the leadings of the Shepherd of Israel, was 
Patrick Livingston. He was convinced about the 
year 1659, when about twenty-five years of age ; and 
three years afterwards, coming northwards in the 
work of the ministry, from Montrose, his native place, 
he was the means of planting a flourishing meeting of 
Friends at Kinmuck, which afterwards grew to be the 
largest in the nation. 

The public preachers of the established form of 
religion now took the alarm, and a series of persecu- 
tions soon commenced, with the intention of destroy- 
ing this vigorous young plant which was growing up 
within their precincts. But the more they trampled 
it under their feet, the more did it spread its verdure 
abroad, to their discomfiture, and the opening of 
the eyes of many to see the emptiness of their pre- 
tensions as teachers of the people, and the inconsist- 
ency of their practice with the mild and lovely fea- 
tures of the Christian life. 

Jn the year 1666, Colonel David Barclay, of Ury, 
and his son Robert, openly attached themselves to the 
Society, refusing the glory of this world, and the 
various opportunities within their grasp, of gratifying 
" the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride 
of life ;" and accepting cheerfully " the reproach of 
*16 



182 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1666. 

Christ," becoming fools for his sake, that so they might 
be " to the praise of his glory." 

David Barclay was born in 1610, at Kirktounhill, 
in Scotland, and received a liberal education. Grow- 
ing up to man's estate, he travelled into Germany, 
and enlisted in the army of Gustavus Adolphus, king 
of Sweden ; but after being engaged in many battles, 
he returned home on the breaking out of the civil 
wars in his native country. In 1646, having attained 
to the rank of Colonel in the Scottish forces, he was 
sent with an army to quell an insurrection of the Earl 
of Crawford, whom he entirely routed ; and after 
being for several years successfully engaged in various 
military expeditions, was made governor of Strath- 
boggie, then a place of much strength. He soon after 
married Catharine Gordon, grand -daughter of the Earl 
of Sutherland, and third cousin to King James I. of 
Great Britain. He continued to occupy a prominent 
station in the Scotch army for several years, until the 
success of the republican party placed them in tempo- 
rary possession of the reins of government. He was 
soon afterwards elected member of Parliament, where 
he vigorously opposed the project for Oliver Crom- 
well's being made king. After this, he disentangled 
himself from public affairs, and retired into a life of 
privacy. His retirement from the world afforded an 
opportunity for . becoming acquainted with himself, 
and with the uncertainty of all temporal things. He 
was now between fifty and sixty years of age ; and 
thought it high time for him who had spent so many 
years in the service of the public, to bestow the re- 
mainder of his life wholly in that of his Creator. He 
betook himself to a close reading of the New Testa- 
ment, and was brought clearly to see that the religion 
of Christ, " was righteousness, and peace, and joy in 
the Holy Ghost" — that it taught to be humble, patient, 
self-denying, — to endure and suffer all things, — and 
not to place our happiness or comfort on this world, 
or the things of it. 



1666.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 183 

He now heard of a people, who, under great re- 
proach for singularity and abstractedness from the 
world, bore, in much plainness and simplicity, a re- 
markable testimony both in their words and practice, 
against the follies and vanities of the world ; and he 
considered, that if they were really such as even their 
enemies acknowledged, there must be somewhat ex- 
traordinary about them. Accordingly, with the 
greatest earnestness did he enter into an examination 
relative to this way, which was indeed " every where 
spoken against." And being in London, he conversed 
with several Friends, whereby his mind became con- 
vinced of the truth of their principles. Some months 
afterwards, being, on a baseless political pretence 
connected with his former public career, imprisoned 
in Edinburgh Castle, along with the Laird of Swin- 
toune, who had zealously embraced the views of 
Friends, he was still further confirmed in his belief of 
their accordance with primitive Christianity. His 
imprisonment took place soon after the decease of his 
wife, about the year 1663; and in 1666, he openly 
connected himself in membership with the Society of 
Friends ; and eventually became eminent for his 
religious and exemplary life, as he had before been 
for military bravery. He had formerly been much 
unacquainted with the virtue of Christian meekness, 
and patient endurance of injuries : but now, when 
Friends were often mobbed by the very dregs of the 
community, it was remarkable that none bore these 
indignities with greater calmness than David Barclay. 
One of his relations lamenting that he should now be 
treated so differently from what he formerly had 
been ; he answered, that he found more satisfaction 
in being thus insulted for his religious principles, than 
when, some years before, it was usual for the magis- 
trates, as he passed the city of Aberdeen, to meet him 
several miles, and conduct him to a public entertain- 
ment in their town-house, and then convey him so 
far out again, in order to gain his favour. His humi- 



184 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1666. 

lity and sincerity as to religion was most remarkable 
in his whole conduct ; and his deportment is said to 
have been particularly awful and striking, when 
engaged in public prayer. 

His son Robert was born in 1648, and having from 
a child the appearance of a promising genius, was 
sent by his father to finish his education, at the Scotch 
college at Paris, of which his uncle was rector. 
Here he became so great a favourite, and made such 
proficiency, that his uncle desired to adopt him, and 
offered to make him heir to his large estate, if he 
would consent to remain. His father, however, in his 
seventeenth year, fearing, and not without reason, lest 
he might become tainted with the superstitions of 
Popery, went to Paris to bring him home. His uncle 
still endeavoured to prevent his return, and offered 
to present to him immediately, an estate greater than 
his paternal one. But mindful of his filial duty, 
Robert replied, " he is my father, and must be obey- 
ed ;" and the uncle, disappointed, left his property to 
the college, and to other religious institutions in 
France. 

It was in 1664, that he returned to Scotland ; and 
having strictly examined into the principles of Friends, 
he soon found himself constrained, upon the same 
ground of real conviction as his father had been, to 
embrace their doctrine and life. One of his intimate 
friends has testified that this change was not consum- 
mated through the means of outward instruments ; 
but that in one of their meetings, he was effectually 
" reached in the time of silence," and made to bow 
before the Truth. He himself declares, that he 
" came to receive and bear witness to the Truth," 
" not by strength of argument, or by a particular dis- 
quisition of each doctrine, and convincement of the 
understanding thereby ; but by being secretly reached 
by this life. For, when 1 came into the silent assem- 
blies of God's people, 1 felt a secret power amongst 
them which touched my heart ; and as I gave way 



1670.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 185 

unto it, I found the evil weakening in me, and the 
good raised up ; and so I became thus knit and united 
unto them, hungering more and more after the in- 
crease of this power and life, whereby I might find 
myself perfectly redeemed." 

Thus did he travail in spirit for his soul's delivery 
out of the power and bondage of corruption, " into 
the glorious liberty of the children of God;" and 
through great love, watchfulness, and fidelity to the in- 
ward appearance of Jesus Christ by his light and Spirit, 
he early came forth a zealous and able witness thereof; 
taking up his cross to the glory and friendship of this 
world, and " esteeming the reproach of Christ greater 
riches than the treasures of Egypt." Thus he rapidly 
advanced to such a growth in grace and saving know- 
ledge, as has been the admiration of many ; and it 
was not long, before he was called to the public min- 
istry of the Gospel. 

About the year 1670, he married Christian Molle- 
son, a young woman who had, through much suffer- 
ing and hardship, publicly embraced the principles of 
Friends, in her sixteenth year. But though he was 
now favoured with the greatest of all temporal bless- 
ings, a pious and devoted partner, yet he did not 
consider himself at liberty to surrender up the ripening 
powers of manhood to selfish ease or supineness. In- 
deed, he seemed to receive the gifts of a gracious Provi- 
dence, as fresh signals for grateful and vigorous engage- 
ment in the warfare of the Christian life. He was not 
only diligent in labouring in the ministry which he had 
received, but also remarkably drawn forth to advocate, 
by a divinely guided pen, the simple principles of the 
pure religion which he professed. His works, which 
were all published within nine years after his marriage, 
and when he was between the ages of twenty-two and 
thirty-one years, formed, when collected, a folio volume 
of nine hundred pages. His " Catechism and Confession 
of Faith" appeared in 1673; about a year afterwards, 
he wrote a Treatise on Christian Discipline, entitled 



186 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1675. 

" The Anarchy of the Ranters," &c. ; and in the 
twenty-eighth year of his age, he published (first in 
Latin) his celebrated " Apology for the True Chris- 
tian Divinity, as held by the people called Quakers ;" 
a work surpassed by no modern disquisitions of reli- 
gious doctrine; a work which has never been refuted; 
and an argumentative declaration of pure Christian 
principles, which can scarcely fail to bring con- 
viction to the candid mind, seriously seeking the 
truth. 

In common with many of his fellow-labourers in 
the glorious cause of spirituality and real holiness, 
Robert Barclay came under that humbling description 
of exercise and service, which, often engaged them to 
testify, in various ways, against the unsound, mixed, 
and even corrupt profession of religion, so much pre- 
vailing in the world ; and he gave up to obey the call 
to some hard and weighty requisitions of this kind ; 
sometimes visiting the congregations of such people, 
with a word of warning or of rebuke. On one occa- 
sion in particular, in the year 1 672, he was constrain- 
ed, under a strong sense of duty, to pass through three 
of the principal streets of Aberdeen, clothed in suck- 
cloth, and exhorting the people to repentance. After 
he had thus submitted to become " a spectacle to 
men," he wrote an address to the inhabitants, declar- 
ing the still extended love of God to be waiting for 
their souls, and desiring to lead them by His Light 
and Spirit revealed in their hearts, " out of all un- 
righteousness and filthiness of flesh and spirit, unto 
all righteousness, truth, holiness, peace, and joy in the 
Holy Ghost." He reminded them that many among 
them had despised the meek and lowly appearance of 
God's witness in their hearts : " Therefore, says he, 
" was I commanded of the Lord God, to pass through 
your streets covered with sackcloth and ashes, calling 
you to repentance." #**#*### "And 
some whom I called, to declare unto them this thing, 
can bear witness, how great was the agony of my 



1672.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 187 

spirit, — how I besought the Lord with tears, that this 
cup might pass away from me ! — yea, how the pillars 
of my tabernacle were shaken, and how exceedingly 
my bones trembled, until I freely gave up unto the 
Lord's will. And this was the end and tendency of 
my testimony, to call you to repentance by this signal 
and singular step ; which I, as to my own will and 
inclination, was as unwilling to be found in, as the 
worst and most wicked of you can be averse from 
receiving or laying it to heart." And after an earnest 
and affectionate expostulation, he thus concludes : " I 
have peace with my God in what I have done, and 
am satisfied that his requirings 1 have answered in this 
thing. I have not sought yours, but you ; nor enter- 
tain evil towards any ; but continue in pure and un- 
feigned love towards all ; being ready to * bless those 
that curse ;' to ' do good to those that despitefully 
use' me ; and to be spent in the will of the Lord for 
your sakes, that your souls may be saved, and God 
over all may be glorified ! for which I travail and cry 
before the throne of Grace, as becometh a servant of 
the Lord Jesus Christ." 

It is remarkable that most of the persecutions of the 
early Friends were instigated by the jealousy of the 
professed teachers of religion ; who were keen-sight- 
ed enough to perceive, that the success of the prin- 
ciples of the new Society would give a mortal blow 
to the hireling system, by which they lived upon the 
credulity and money of the people. Robert Bar- 
clay's marriage was one of the circumstances which 
greatly raised their anger. In this important under- 
taking, he could not swerve from his principles, and 
by submitting to the common mode of accomplishing 
his marriage, sanction the unholy trade in religious 
things. In accordance therefore with the practice 
of the Society, his marriage was solemnly accom- 
plished in an assembly of his Friends and others, and 
in the presence of the Most High. The public 
preachers were so much exasperated at this neglect 



188 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1672. 

of their authority, that they procured letters to sum- 
mon him before the Privy Council, for an unlawful 
marriage ; though they never had power to put their 
threats in execution against him. 

Another matter which much provoked the priests, 
and nearly allied to the above, was the practice of 
Friends in burying their dead, to abstain from all 
the customary performances of ministers appoint- 
ed by man, and acting under the promptings of 
man's will and judgment. This also struck at 
the emoluments of the clergy, as they arrogantly 
named themselves, and afresh excited their jealousy 
and rage. By their influence with the magistrates, 
in 1672, they procured the destruction of the walls of 
Friends' burial ground at Aberdeen, in which a child 
of one of the members had been, a few days before, 
interred. The body was taken up, the coffin shame- 
fully broken open, and carried for re-interment to a 
neighbouring village. They continued to remove 
every corpse that was interred in that ground, until 
by means of a representation made to the King's 
Council, they were checked in this uncommon in- 
humanity. They found, however, other means to 
persecute this innocent people, often casting them 
into prison for their faithful attendance of their reli- 
gious meetings, and fining them for non-payment of 
the hire of the priests. But through all, Friends in 
Scotland continued to increase, and a considerable 
number of meetings were soon established in various 
parts of the country. 



1663.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 189 

CHAPTER XX. 

ACCOUNT OF THOMAS LURTING AND THE ALGERINE PIRATES. 

The Christian behaviour of Thomas Lurting under 
very trying and dangerous circumstances, in the 
year 1663, was of too remarkable a character to be 
passed over in silence, illustrating as the narrative 
does, the contrast between that spirit which seeks 
the destruction of our fellow-creatures, and that 
which breathes " peace on earth and good will to 
men." 

Thomas Lurting, in early life, occupied the station 
of boatswain's mate in a man of war under Admiral 
Blake ; in which occupation he eminently displayed 
those qualities which are by men of this world called 
bravery and courage ; and being accordingly put 
into the post of danger, he met with many remark- 
able preservations of his life in times of close engage- 
ment in battle. 

About the year 1654, several of the ship's com- 
pany were favoured with a divine visitation to their 
minds, under which some of them became convinced 
in degree of the principles of Friends, and began to 
decline hearing the hired services of the chaplain of 
the vessel, and to meet in silence among themselves. 
Thomas was informed of this by the priest, and his 
passions being excited by this man's false represen- 
tations of them, he fell to beating and cruelly abusing 
his shipmates, when he found them thus religiously 
met together to wait on the Most High. This con- 
duct however was far from producing ease of mind. 
The judgments of the Lord soon overtook him, and 
he became exceedingly distressed with what he had 
done ; and dwelling under the condemnation, he be- 
came more and more enlightened, to perceive his own 
state of alienation from God ; his heart became ten- 

17 



190 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1663. 

dered and broken ; and he sought for retirement, that 
he might freely pour out the burden of his contrited 
soul to the Lord. This change was observed by the 
ship's crew, so that at length it came to his share to 
be mocked and ridiculed. 

Being alone one evening waiting on the Lord, 
and earnestly seeking to know his duty, it was clear- 
ly shown him that he must join himself to that little 
band whom he had so often abused. Remembering 
his aversion to them, and his contempt of their appar- 
ently foolish way of religion, he felt as if he would 
rather give up his natural life than comply in so re- 
pulsive a matter. But the Lord reminded him of his 
many wonderful preservations ; which mollified his 
heart, and being still followed by inward reproofs 
and judgments, he came at length, after much strug- 
gling, to the conclusion, that " whether Quaker or no 
Quaker, he was for peace w T ith God." After a while, 
he opened some of his feelings to one of them, named 
Roger Dennis, and when First-day came, he resolved 
to go to the little meeting on board, which was now 
of six in number. It soon got wind among the sail- 
ors, that Thomas was among the Quakers ; and 
many of the ship's company leaving their own wor- 
ship to look at him, greatly disturbed the quiet of 
their little gathering. He was summoned after this, be- 
fore the captain and priest, but their arguments 
only tended to confirm him in the rectitude of his 
present position ; and continuing to meet with his 
friends, some others also joined them, so that in less 
than six months, their number was doubled. 

Hitherto Thomas and his friends had not perceived 
the inconsistency of wsly with true religion. Their 
minds however were undergoing the process of pre- 
paration for seeing more clearly the peaceable 
nature of the Messiah's kingdom in the heart, and they 
declined partaking of any of the booty seized in 
skirmishes with the enemy. They were caressed 
by many on board, as brave and useful men ; and in- 



1663.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 191 

deed they displayed such alacrity and boldness in 
fulfilling the requisitions of their officers, that the 
captain said he cared not if all his men were Qua- 
kers, for they were the hardiest men in his ship. 
But it was not long before their duty was clearly 
manifested to them in this particular, and then came 
a time of close trial. 

This occurred while they were bombarding a castle 
at or near the town of Barcelona. Thomas and his 
friends were fighting with as much earnestness as 
any, and the vessel being annoyed by the shots fired 
from one corner of the castle, he proposed to beat 
down that part of it ; and went into the forecastle, 
stripped to the waist, to level the ship's guns towards 
that spot. This being done, he was coming out of 
the forecastle to see where the shot would fall, when 
suddenly the query ran through his mind, " What if 
now thou kiilest a man ?'■ This struck him instantly 
with strong emotions ; and He who alone can turn 
the hearts of men, so suddenly and completely 
changed his views, that he immediately felt that he 
must not proceed in the destruction of his fellow- 
creatures, even if it were to gain the whole world. 
Putting on his clothes, he walked the deck, as if he 
had not seen a gun fired; and being under great 
mental exercise, some asked him if he were hurt. 
He replied, " No ; but under some scruple of con- 
science on the account of fighting." Though he 
knew not at that time that this was one of the doc- 
trines held by Friends, yet he clearly saw that they 
who had been so active in fighting must now bear 
their testimony against it, and abide the consequen- 
ces. Soon afterwards, one of his friends also in- 
formed the captain that he could no longer continue 
to fight. The latter threatened to run his sword into 
any one who refused to fight in time of engagement, 
and severely beat the friend with his fist and cane, 
for attempting to reason with him upon it. 

Some time after this, while cruising in the Medi- 



192 HISTORICAL MEMOIKS OF [1663. 

terranean, a ship was discovered bearing down upon 
them, supposed to be a Spanish man of war. Orders 
were of course given, to prepare the ship for an en- 
gagement; and Thomas, who saw that a time of 
trial was approaching for himself and friends, called 
them together, and encouraged them to faithfulness 
to their convictions ; and at the same time exhorted 
them not to deceive the captain, who placed confi- 
dence in them, but publicly to show him, in good 
time before the engagement, what their intentions 
were. His friends agreeing with him, collected 
round the capstan, and one of them informed the 
lieutenant that he could no longer fight. This was 
immediately reported to the captain, who came 
furiously down upon him, flung his hat overboard, 
and taking him by the collar, beat him with a great 
cane, and dragged him to his quarters. He then re- 
tired to the half-deck, called for his sword, and drew 
it with great passion. Thomas how felt constrained 
to go to him, and under great exercise of mind 
turned round to his friend Roger Dennis, and said, 
" I must go to the captain :" to which Roger re- 
turned, "Be well satisfied in what thou doest." 
Thomas replied, that there was a necessity laid 
upon him ; and then seeing the captain coming for- 
ward with his drawn sword, he stepped towards 
him, keeping his eye fixed upon him in much serious- 
ness, and his mind intent upon the secret pointings of 
the Divine finger. The captain saw him ; was 
struck with the authority in which he came ; his 
countenance turned pale ; and turning away, he gave 
his sword to an attendant, and went off. The ship 
which they had taken for an enemy, soon proved 
to belong to a friendly nation, and the captain, 
ashamed of his conduct, sent the priest before night 
to apologize to Thomas for his passionate behaviour. 
Thus was the latter preserved through outward 
dangers and inward trials of faith, until at length he 
got safe home. 



1663.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 193 

Now leaving ships of war, his subsequent voyages 
were in merchant vessels; but from these he was 
several times pressed into the king's service; and 
being carried on board the men-of-war, he suffered 
greatly for not feeling himself at liberty to do any 
work on board such vessels. On one occasion, the 
captain of the ship on board of which he was car- 
ried, was very violent, threatening either to hang 
him or take him before the Duke of York, for not 
being willing to do any work on board ; but the next 
night being exceedingly troubled in mind on his 
prisoner's account, he sent for " the Quaker" in 
haste, and put him ashore, in order to be able to 
rest peaceably in his bed. 

In the year 1663, Thomas Lurting being mate of a 
vessel commanded by a Friend, they were chased in 
the Mediterranean by an Algerine pirate ; which com- 
ing up with them, compelled the captain and several 
of the men to come on board their vessel, leaving 
only Thomas with three men and a boy behind. 
The Algerines then put about fourteen of their own 
men aboard the English ship. While they were 
coming in the boat, Thomas was under great exer- 
cise of mind, not knowing what the event might be ; 
but retiring mentally to the Lord his ever gracious 
Preserver, he felt an inward assurance that he should 
not be carried to Algiers, as many were, and sold 
into slavery. His confidence in divine protection 
was renewed, and meeting the Algerines at the ship's 
side, he received them in a friendly manner, and 
showed them the vessel and cargo. The pirates 
also behaved towards him personally with civility. 
Thomas afterwards endeavoured to cheer the men of 
the ship, by telling them of his assurance that they 
should not go to Algiers ; and exhorted them now to 
be willing to obey the Turks, as the people of Algiers 
were called by the English. This they promised to 
do ; and he soon perceived that they gained the 
favour and confidence of these barbarous people, 
*17 



194 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1663. 

who gradually grew careless and easy, and several 
of them returned to their own ship with some small 
matter of plunder. Soon afterwards the captain and 
men were returned on board from the other vessel, 
which relieved Thomas's great anxiety for their 
safety. He still assured the seamen of his belief that 
they should not go to Algiers, and told them that if 
they would be ruled by his directions, he would act 
for their delivery as well as his own ; though he saw 
at present no way to effect it. The vessel having 
been commanded by a Friend, though the sailors 
were not of that persuasion, had of course no arms 
on board, except what were in possession of the 
pirates, who were well armed. Thomas said to the 
seamen, " What if we should overcome the Turks, 
and go to Majorca?' at which the men rejoiced, 
and began to boast of their intentions of kill- 
ing their captors ; but this being very far from the 
mate's intentions, he was much grieved, and plainly 
told them that he intended not to hurt any, and if he 
knew that any of them would touch a Turk for that 
purpose, he would tell the Turks himself; adding 
" but if ye will be ruled, I will act for you ; if not, i 
will be still." To this the men agreed; and he 
strictly charged them to do all that the pirates should 
tell them, with the utmost diligence, so as to gain 
still more their confidence. Divulging his plans to 
the captain, the latter agreed to let him do what he 
would, provided no blood should be spilt; which 
Thomas of course engaged, as he said he would 
rather go to Algiers, than to kill one of the Turks. 

The weather now becoming stormy, they lost the 
company of the Algerine vessel, which was favoura- 
ble to the mate's wishes ; and the pirates had by this 
time grown extremely easy and careless, from the 
good behaviour of the sailors. The second night 
after the vessels parted company, the leader of the 
pirates and one of his company having gone to sleep 
in the cabin with the captain, Thomas persuaded 



1663.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 195 

another of them to lie in his own cabin, and about 
an hour afterwards, another in another cabin ; 
and as it rained very hard, he at length persuaded 
them all to lie down and sleep. When they were all 
fast asleep, he came to them, and fairly got possession 
of their arms; and going to the sailors, he said to them, 
" Now we have the Turks at our command, no man 
shall hurt them — but as they are under deck, we will 
keep them so, and go for Majorca." And having 
ordered some to keep the doors, and not to let more 
than one out at a time, he steered for that island; and 
having a brisk gale, when morning came they were 
in sight of it. The Turks finding this, were struck 
with consternation, and began to beg that they might 
not be sold; which the mate assured them they should 
not ; and when they came towards the shore, they 
concealed the pirates in the ship, to prevent the 
Spaniards from discovering that any were on board. 
But by the treachery of an Englishman, to whom they 
confidentially divulged what they had done, the 
Spaniards got wind of it, and would have seized 
these men to sell them for slaves ; and they had much 
difficulty, with the assistance of the pirates themselves, 
in getting clear of the island, so as to enable them to 
save their prisoners from such a fate. They at length 
got safely out to sea, thus placing themselves again in 
great danger, in order to save those men from their 
enemies. 

Several times these ungrateful people attempted to 
rise against them, notwithstanding they were treated 
with great kindness; but the Christian intrepidity and 
prudence of the mate, kept them from their pur- 
pose. On one occasion, when the ten pirates were 
for some purpose all on deck, and none of the English 
there but the captain, the mate, and the man at the 
helm, they began to behave in such a way as to 
awaken Thomas's suspicions of intended mischief; 
whereupon, stamping with his foot on the deck, he 
brought up the men from below ; who began to look 



196 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1663. 

about for something wherewith they might fall on the 
Turks. He bade them however not to hurt them ; but 
hearing some of the pirates threatening the captain, he 
stepped up to their leader, and laying hold of him, 
told him to go below ; which he did very quietly, and 
the rest followed him. Two days after this, they 
came off the coast of Barbary, about fifty miles from 
Algiers, and began to consider the best means of put- 
ting the pirates ashore, with safety to themselves. 
Thomas, who trusted in the Lord's preserving power, 
undertook this hazardous business ; and taking with 
him two men and a boy, he put these ten Turks into 
the boat, all loose and unbound, in order that if neces- 
sary, they might be able to swim ashore. In order 
to provide against a sudden rising, whereby they 
might get possession of the boat, he made them sit 
in each other's laps, the leader being the lowest at the 
stern of the boat, and he himself sitting with a boat- 
hook in his hand on the bow. Thus the boat stood 
for the shore'; but as they came near it, the sailors 
becoming afraid, suddenly cried out that there were 
Turks in the bushes on the shore ; and the pirates 
perceiving their fright, took advantage of it, and all 
rose up in the boat. But the mate in this emergency 
preserved his presence of mind, and with the boat- 
hook in his hand he struck the leader a smart blow, 
and bid him sit down ; which he did instantly, and 
the rest followed his example. After the boat was 
come so near the shore that they could easily make 
to land, he bid the pirates jump out; which they did ; 
and giving them some provisions, and afterwards put- 
ting the boat closer in, he sent them off, and got safe 
back to the ship. The Algerines, getting up to the 
top of the hill, waved their caps at the English, and 
so took their leave. Thomas Lurting had the satis- 
faction of reflecting that he had followed the injunc- 
tion of his Divine Master, even to love our ene- 
mies, and do good to them that hate us ; and having 
by his prudence, under the guidance of heavenly 



1665.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 197 

wisdom, thus saved the ship and his companions, he 
was favoured to return to England with a prosperous 
wind. On his arrival in the river Thames, this extra- 
ordinary transaction having become known in Lon- 
don, the king, with the Duke of York, and several 
other nobles, came in the royal barge, to have . the 
narrative from Thomas's own mouth; though it ap- 
pears that the monarch did not duly appreciate the 
principles under which he had acted. 

About this time there were a number of Friends 
held in captivity at Algiers ; who by faithfully serv- 
ing those who claimed them as slaves, gained the 
esteem of the inhabitants, and were suffered to go at 
large in the town, without being chained as others 
were. These met together for religious worship, and 
one of them received a gift in the ministry, for the 
edification of his Friends. Some other English slaves 
also frequented the meeting, and came to be united 
with them ; and the name of Quaker came to be 
known in Algiers, as that of a people that might be 
trusted beyond all others. 



CHAPTER XXI. 



DEATH OF SAMUEL FISHER ACCOUNT OF HIS CONVINCE- 

MENT, ETC. 

Among the great numbers of the people called Qua- 
kers who laid down their lives in prison during the 
year 1665, was Samuel Fisher. He was a man of 
good abilities, and had received a liberal education, 
having, when a young man, been sent to one of the 
universities to complete his studies. Being a youth of 
circumspect and pious conversation, his mind was 
burdened with many practices which he found preva- 
lent at the university. But at the conclusion of his 



198 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1665. 

studies there, he was ordained a priest, and became 
first a chaplain to a person in authority, and after- 
wards was presented to the living of Lidd, in Kent, 
with a stipend of about two hundred pounds a year. 

Before he became acquainted with Friends, being 
conscientiously engaged in seeking after truth, he dis- 
covered that infant baptism was a mere human insti- 
tution, and that to preach for hire was contrary to 
the command of Christ : " Freely ye have received — 
freely give." And being requested by a person of his 
acquaintance, to converse with a young man who 
had been in some degree convinced of the princi- 
ples of Friends, but as yet had no acquaintance 
with any of that people ; in his endeavours to re- 
move this young man's scruples in respect to some 
of their religious performances, he was himself con- 
vinced of the impropriety of the common practice 
of giving out psalms for a mixed congregation to sing, 
w T hose minds must be in very different stages of reli- 
gious attainment, and consequently unfit in many 
instances to take the words of the holy psalmist as 
expressive of their own condition. At length his con- 
tinuing to preach for hire, contrary to his convictions, 
became a burden too heavy for him to bear; and 
he voluntarily resigned his pastoral charge, and trust- 
ed to the protection of Divine Providence, in an en- 
deavour by honest industry to provide a subsistence 
for himself and his family. He rented a farm, and 
commenced the business of a grazier ; by which he 
was favoured to procure a comfortable competency, 
with the consolation of the testimony of an approving 
conscience. 

Having discovered a great mixture of human tra- 
dition and invention retained from the papal system, 
among the Episcopalians, he withdrew from their 
communion, and joining the Baptists, became for atime 
a favourite teacher among them. But his mind was 
still seeking the further discoveries of the Divine will ; 
and about the year 1655, it pleased the Father of 



1665.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 199 

mercies to open his understanding to behold more 
"wondrous things out of his law." William Caton 
and John Stubbs, two eminent ministers among 
Friends, came to Lidd ; and Samuel Fisher, remem- 
bering the apostolic exhortation, " Be not forgetful to 
entertain strangers," received them into his house. 
John Stubbs going to the meeting of the Baptists 
where Samuel officiated, and obtaining an opportu- 
nity to preach the gospel, delivered the sound princi- 
ples of Christian truth with such clearness and autho- 
rity, that. Samuel was deeply affected. And observing 
that the life and conversation of these gospel messen- 
gers were consonant to the testimony they held forth, 
he was so much impressed, that giving up all his de- 
pendence on his own wisdom and learning, he soon 
became thoroughly convinced, and openly professed 
the religion of this persecuted people. 

Whilst Samuel Fisher's mind was undergoing this 
change, Hammond, his colleague in office, took upon 
him to utter in a sermon many bitter invectives against 
the Quakers. On which, Samuel, incited by a more 
Christian temper, and a dispassionate regard for truth, 
thought that his duty to his misinformed flock required 
him to bear his testimony against the calumnies of 
his colleague. " Dear brother," said he, with the 
moderation and charity of a Christian, " you are very 
dear and near to me, but the truth is dearer and near- 
er : it is the everlasting truth and gospel which they 
hold forth." " Our brother Fisher is also bewitch- 
ed," retorted Hammond, in a very different spirit. 
But Samuel's faith was not of that cast to return 
reviling for reviling ; and having sincerely borne his 
testimony, he then left it, and followed his own con- 
victions to his great peace. Soon after joining the 
Society of Friends, he received a gift in the ministry, 
and travelled much both in England and other coun- 
tries. In Flanders, he faithfully testified against the 
idolatry of the papists : and afterwards, in company 
with John Stubbs, crossed the Alps on foot, and tra- 



200 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1665. 

veiled through Italy to Rome ; where they bore a 
faithful testimony to the simplicity of true religion, 
and exposed the superstitions of that seat of bigotry 
and pomp. They also distributed some books among 
the ecclesiastics of that city, and having finished their 
service, passed away without molestation. 

But though Samuel escaped persecution among 
the Romanists, he met with his full share of it from 
the protestants of his native country ; and spent the 
greatest part of the last four years of his life in prison. 
In 1662, in company with William Ames and some 
other Friends, he was violently seized by a party of 
soldiers, with no warrant but their drawn swords ; and 
after six weeks confinement was committed to New- 
gate, for refusal to take an oath, and without any form 
of trial. Here he continued about twelve months, and 
in a short time after his release, was again taken, and 
committed to the White-lion prison in Southwark. 
This was his last imprisonment, and only ceased with 
his life. He remained nearly two years in confine- 
ment, until in 1665, the plague broke out in London, 
and soon raged to such a degree that seven thousand 
persons died of it in that city in one week. Of course 
it reached the filthy and crowded prisons, where many 
Friends were at that time confined ; and in Newgate 
prison alone, no less than fifty-two of that people laid 
down their lives, twenty-two of whom were under 
sentence of transportation. 

Whether this was the disease by which Samuel 
Fisher was called to his everlasting home, we are not 
informed ; but he finished his course in prison in per- 
fect peace. 



1665.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 201 



CHAPTER XXII. 

THE SUFFERIiNTGS OF RICHARD SELLER, FOR HIS TESTIMONY 
AGATNST WAR, ON BOARD THE FLAG-SHIP " ROYAL 
PRINCE."* 

We have seen how Thomas Lurting was preserved 
through sufferings, a faithful witness of the peaceable 
nature of the Redeemer's kingdom, and finally over- 
came the malice of his enemies. We now have to 
narrate the simple story of another soldier of the 
Lamb's army, who knowing that the weapons of 
the Christian's warfare are not carnal but spiritual, 
endured uncommon cruelties, and refused to save his 
life, by uniting in the destruction of his fellow-men. 

Richard Seller was a fisherman of Kilnsea, on the 
coast of Yorkshire, who had been convinced of the 
truth of the principles of the Society of Friends. 
During the war between the English and Dutch about 
the year 1665, he was pressed at Scarborough into 
the king's service, and forcibly conveyed on board the 
flag ship " Royal Prince," commanded by Admiral 
Sir Edward Spragg, and having on board nearly one 
thousand men. Being commanded to go to work at 
the capstan, he declined, and told them that not being 
free to do the king's work, he would not live at his 
charge for victuals. Upon this the boatswain's mate 
beat him severely ; and he was ordered on the quarter 
deck ; where the captain asking him the reason of his 
refusing to fight, or partake of the ship's provisions, he 
replied that he was afraid of offending God, and durst 
not fight with carnal weapons ; whereupon the cap- 
tain also fell upon him with his cane, knocking him 

*See Besse's " Collection of the Sufferings of the Quakers," vol. ii. 
p. 112. 

18 



202 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1665. 

down three or four times on the deck, and beating 
him very severely as long as he had strength to do it. 
One Thomas Horner coming up, who had had some 
acquaintance with Richard, entreated the captain " to 
be merciful, for he knew him to be an honest and good 
man ;" but the captain in his fury exclaimed, " he is 
a Quaker, — I will beat his brains out I" and falling 
upon him again, beat him until he became exhausted, 
and then called another person to help him. After 
this they tied two ropes to his wrist, and reeving the 
ropes through two blocks in the mizen-shrouds, 
hoisted him up aloft, and fastened the ropes, so that 
he hung there by his wrists for some time, a butt 
for the vulgar jests of this wicked crew. Then 
they let fly the ropes, and he fell upon the deck. The 
captain called to the boatswain's mate, to " take the 
Quakerly dog away, and put him to the capstan, and 
make him work, and beat him, and spare him not." 
This man performed his officer's command thorough- 
ly, beating Richard unmercifully, tying his hands to 
the capstan, and making the men thus haul him round 
with them by main force. But the fastenings of his 
hands coming loose by some means which no one could 
explain, the conscience of this guilty man appears to 
have been aroused ; he thought it was done by an 
invisible hand; and his mind was so strongly affected 
by the circumstance, that he " promised before God 
and man, that he would never beat or cause to be 
beaten, either Quaker or any other man that refused 
for conscience-sake to act for the king ; and if he 
should, he wished he might lose his right hand." 

This man's turn came now to suffer. He was 
called up before the admiral, for refusing any longer 
to beat Richard Seller : and being desired to answer 
for himself, he said, " I have beaten him very sore ; 
and I seized his arms' to the capstan's bars, and forced 
them to heave him about, and beat him, — and in three 
or four times of the capstan's going about, the seizings 
were loosed, and he came and sat down bv me. Then 



1665.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 203 

I called the men from the capstan and had them 
sworn, whether they had loosed him or not ; but they 
all denied that they either loosed him or knew by 
what means he was loosed ; neither could the seizings 
ever be found. Therefore I did and do believe that it 
was an invisible power that set him at liberty, and I 
did promise before God and the company, that I would 
never beat a Quaker again, nor any man else for con- 
science sake." At this the admiral told him, he must 
lose his cane (the insignia of his office) ; which he 
willingly yielded. He added, that " he must also 
loose his place ;" which also he was willing to do. 
He then told him "he must lose his right hand;" 
when he held it out, and said, "take it from me if you 
please." So they took his cane from him, and dis- 
placed him, but did not fulfil the other barbarous 
threat. 

Richard was given in charge by the admiral to 
seven men, who were commanded to beat him wher- 
ever they met with him, for seven days and nights, 
and to make him work ; the first of which they did 
till they were weary, and desired to be excused. 
Another man then undertook it, and beat him occa- 
sionally for a day and a night ; when he also desired 
to be excused. The admiral having him stripped, 
and examining his body, could find no bruises ; at 
which he grew angry with the men for not beating him 
enough ; but Captain Fowler replied to him, " I have 
beaten him myself as much as would have killed an ox." 
The jester, (a silly man often in those days retained 
about the persons of the nobility to make merriment 
by his fooleries,) who had instigated them to the 
hoisting punishment, said " he had him hung a great 
while by the arms up aloft in the shrouds ;" and the 
men declared, " they also had beaten him very sore, 
but they might as well have beaten the mainmast." 
The admiral, however, was inexorable ; Richard was 
laid in irons, and the ship's company by proclamation 
prohibited on pain of similar punishment, from pro- 



204 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1665. 

viding him with food. So he lay in irons day and 
night for nearly two weeks, and would probably have 
famished, but that two Friends of Bridlington had, 
early after his seizure, sent him a supply of provisions. 
As it was, he grew very ill with a fever. After some 
days, the remainder of his food being taken away, 
the carpenter's mate secretly provided him with some 
refreshment, telling him that he had of his own, inde- 
pendent of the ship's provisions, and that before he 
came on board he was strictly charged by his wife 
and mother, " that if any Quaker came on board, he 
should be kind to them ;" he added that he had also 
lately received a letter from them, wherein they re- 
peated their charge, " to remember his promise, and 
be kind to Quakers, if any were on board." This 
man, however, was soon sent away, from the vessel 
on some occasion, and Richard remained without 
sustenance for three days and nights. 

After suffering in this way for a considerable time, 
the admiral called a council of war, composed of the 
officers of that and other ships, to decide on the final 
punishment to which Richard Seller should be con- 
demned. Being so lame with the irons that he could 
not stand, he was set on a bulkhead to hear his sen- 
tence. The judge or president, who was governor of 
Dover Castle, was a papist; and when they were 
much divided in sentiment, to what death to subject 
their prisoner, this man proposed that he " should be 
put into a barrel or cask driven full of nails with their 
points inwards, and so rolled to death." But the 
council of war thinking this too horrible a punishment, 
agreed that he should be hung. The poor innocent 
prisoner meanwhile was lifting up his heart to the 
God of bis life ; who left him not in his extremity, but 
raised his mind above all earthly things, endued him 
with sudden strength, and enabled him to declare to 
the assembly, that " the hearts of kings themselves 
were in the hand of the Lord, and so were theirs and 
his ; that he valued not what they could do to this his 



1665.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 205 

body, for he was at peace with God and with all man- 
kind, even with them, his adversaries; that he could 
never die in a better condition, for the Lord had satis- 
fied him that his sins were forgiven, and he was glad 
in His mercy that He had made him willing to suffer 
for His name's sake — that he was heartily glad and 
did really rejoice with a seal to the same in his heart." 
His accusers and judges could not bear this, and most 
of them slunk away. A man came and laid his 
hand on Richard's shoulder, saying, " where are all 
thy accusers'?" And looking round he found them 
gone. The admiral, however, being still there, he 
showed him his terrible sores, produced by the irons 
on his limbs ; and an old soldier coming up, put off 
his cap, and kneeling down on his bared knees before 
the commander, with the obsequious etiquette of the 
navy, begged his pardon three times, and having got 
liberty to speak, thus addressed him : " Noble Sir 
Edward, you know that I have served his majesty 
under you many years, both in this nation and other 
nations by sea, and you were always a merciful man : 
therefore I do entreat you in all kindness, to be mer- 
ciful to this poor man, who is condemned to die to- 
morrow, and only for denying your order, for fear of 
offending God, and for conscience-sake ; and we have 
but one man on board, out of nine hundred and fifty, 
which doth refuse for conscience-sake ; and shall we 
take his life away 1 Nay, God forbid. For he hath 
already declared, that if we take his life, there shall a 
judgment appear on some on board within eight and 
forty-hours ; and to me it hath appeared ; therefore I 
am forced to come upon quarter-deck before you, and 
my spirit is one with his. And therefore I desire you 
in all kindness, when you take his life, to give me the 
liberty to go off; for I shall not be willing to serve 
his majesty any longer on board ship. So 1 do entreat 
you once more, to be merciful to this poor man." 

The chief gunner also, who had been formerly a 
captain, came in the same humble manner, and beg- 
18* 



206 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1665. 

ged for Richard's life. The admiral however per- 
sisted, and desired him to go down, and spend the 
day in taking leave of his acquaintances on board. 
That night, one of the men kindly offered him the use 
of his hammock, and he obtained the luxury which 
had long been denied him, whilst he lay continually in 
irons, of a good night's rest. About eight o'clock 
the next morning, the captains of the other ships, who 
had joined in the council of war, having come on 
board, and a rope being fastened on the mizen-yard- 
arm, with a boy ready to turn him off, Richard was 
brought out to be executed. And coming to the spot, 
the commander asked the council, how their judg- 
ment stood ? And most of them consenting, he turn- 
ed to the prisoner, and desired him freely to speak, if 
he had any thing to say before his execution. He 
replied, that he had little at present to say. Then 
came a man who bid him go forward to be hung ; 
and he stepping on the gunnel to go towards the rope, 
the commander bid him stop there, if he had any thing 
to say. At this juncture, when perhaps the hearts of 
some were softening, at the fate which seemed im- 
pending over this innocent sufferer, the person who 
had acted as judge on the trial incautiously showed 
his popish bigotry by the remark, " Sir Edward is a 
merciful man, that puts that heretic to no w r orse death 
than hanging." The word heretic struck the ear of 
the admiral, who professed himself a protestant ; and 
scorning to be made a tool to execute the ven- 
geance of a papist, he turned quickly about, and 
asked him what he said. " I say," replied he, " that 
you are a merciful man, that puts him to no worse 
death than hanging." " But," said the commander, 
" what is that other word that thou saidst 1 — that 
heretic — I say, he is more a Christian than thyself; 
for I do believe thou wouldst hang me, if it were in 
thy power." And turning to his prisoner, he said, 
" Come down again ; I will not hurt a hair of thy 
head, for I cannot make one hair grow." He imme- 



1665.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 207 

diately caused it to be proclaimed three times over, 
that if any credible man on board would give evi- 
dence that Richard had done any thing deserving of 
death, he should have it ; but no one appearing, he 
proclaimed, " that the Quaker was as free a man as 
any on board." So the men, who filled the shrouds, 
tops, and decks, heaved up their hats, and loudly 
cried, "God bless Sir Edward, he is a merciful man." 
And thus did the Almighty Care-taker of his lowly 
dependent children, defeat the evil intentions of those 
who sought the life of this faithful sufl'erer for the 

o 

cause of a pure conscience, and for his testimony to the 
peaceful nature of true Christianity. Great was the 
peace with which his soul was filled on this memora- 
ble day. Much kindness was shown to him by all on 
board ; but he declared that " the great kindness of 
the Lord exceeded all." 

Being thus preserved from death, he was soon after 
made instrumental to the saving of the ship, and the 
lives of many on board. It appears that he w T as vis- 
ited by a remarkable dream or vision, in which it 
was shown him that the vessel would be engaged with 
the Dutch on a certain sand-bank, and in imminent 
danger of running aground, and so becoming a prey 
to the enemy. And though it was death by the rules 
of the navy, for any one to say any thing calculated to 
discourage the crew in time of battle, yet he was not 
easy without mentioning the circumstance to one or 
two of the officers ; and when afterwards they were 
engaged in battle, he from the shrouds pointed out to 
the pilot the very sand-bank, which had been marvel- 
ously manifested to him several days before, when he 
and the rest were entirely unacquainted with such a 
shoal. The vessel was immediately put about, in 
spite of the commander's orders to the contrary, who 
knew nothing of the danger ; and they were thus sud- 
denly rescued from running aground, through the 
instrumentality of this despised and abused man. 
During the engagement, he was employed in attend- 



208 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1665. 

ing to the poor wounded and dying men ; and again 
saved the ship from danger, by pointing out a fire- 
ship rapidly approaching them through the smoke, 
filled with combustibles, in order to set them on fire 
by the collision which would soon have taken place. 

About a week after this, they were again engaged 
with the Dutch, and Richard was as before employed 
in carrying down and attending to the wounded men. 
This day they lost about two hundred of their ship's 
company. In describing this day's work he says, 
" The lieutenant meeting me, asked me if I had re- 
ceived any wound l I told him, none. He asked, 
6 How I came to be so bloody? Then I told him, 'It 
was with carrying down wounded men.' So he took 
me in his arms, and kissed me; and this was the same 
lieutenant that persecuted me so with irons at the 
first." 

Soon after this, the vessel arriving near Chatham, 
the admiral came up to Richard, and laying his hand 
on his head, said, " Thou hast done well, and very 
well too," and gave him liberty to go ashore. Rich- 
ard requested from him a certificate, to show that he 
had not run away. The admiral, knowing he was a 
fisherman, and likely, from his occupation, to be ex- 
posed again to be pressed on board some ship of war, 
said, " thou shalt have one to keep thee clear at home, 
and also in thy fishing ;" and having it made out, he 
signed it, and gave it to Richard, wishing him well, 
and desiring to hear from him if he got w T ell home. 
His pay was offered him ; but he refused it, and told 
them that he had money of his own, which he hoped 
would serve him till he reached his home. 

Such is the remarkable narrative of the sufferings 
of this faithful man, who, rather than violate his con- 
science by being instrumental to destroy other men's 
lives, endured with patience many sore trials, " loving 
not his life unto the death ;" but was freely resigned 
to martyrdom for his testimony against war, and was 
preserved from it at the last extremity, by a memora- 






1665.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 209 

ble interposition of Him who can change the hearts 
and purposes of men at his will. And thus was he 
enabled to triumph over the malice of his enemies, 
who conscious at length of his innocence and virtue, 
became his friends and favourers. 



CHAPTER XXIII, 



WILLIAM PENNS EARLY LIFE AND CONVINCEMENT. 

About the year 1660, the Society was joined by 
one whose talents, education, and rank in life opened 
to him the fairest prospects of promotion to the favour 
of courts, and the various gratifications which this 
world has to bestow; but who, preferring a life of 
self-denial and suffering, with and for the people of 
God and the cause of eternal Truth, forsook the 
pleasures of Egypt at an early age, and entering 
heartily into the ranks of the Lord's army, became 
eminently serviceable in advancing the cause of true 
Christianity, both in the old world and in the new. 

William Penn was born in London, in the year 
1644. His father, Admiral Sir William Penn, was a 
man of good estate and reputation, and distinguished 
himself in some of the highest stations of the British 
navy. He was knighted by King Charles the Second ; 
and became a peculiar favourite with the Duke of 
York, afterwards James the Second. William re- 
ceived a liberal education, and made so early im- 
provements in learning, that about his fifteenth year 
he was entered as a student in the university of Ox- 
ford. He soon however began to display an ardent 
desire after pure and spiritual religion. He had been 
much impressed on one occasion, by the ministry of 
a member of the Society of Friends, named Thomas 



210 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1666. 

Loe ; and yielding to the feelings which were secret- 
ly implanted in his mind, he, with certain other stu- 
dents of the university, withdrew from the national 
ceremonious way of worship, and held private meet- 
ings for devotional purposes, preaching and praying 
among themselves. He was now sixteen years of 
age; and this practice giving great offence to the 
heads of the college, he was fined for non-conformity; 
and still persevering in what he believed to be more 
consonant with the gospel, than the practices of the 
established form of religion, he was expelled the col- 
lege, and returned home in 1661. 

His father, who had fondly hoped for great worldly 
preferment for his son, was much disappointed in 
finding the change which had taken place in his 
views. For feeling a secret sympathy spring up in 
his heart for sober and religious people, William took 
great delight in their company, to the neglect of those 
associations and occupations which would have pro- 
moted his entrance into a courtly life. His father 
endeavoured to persuade him to conform to his 
wishes, though at the risk of wounding his conscience; 
but finding that neither his entreaties nor blows were 
sufficient to induce his son to obey him, rather than 
his Maker, in a fit of anger he turned him out of 
doors. 

Relenting however in some measure from his seve- 
rity, the next year he sent him to France, in company 
with some persons of quality who were making a tour 
on the continent, hoping by this means to wean him 
from the serious thoughtfulness and strictness of life to 
which he was so strongly inclined. This snare was 
well nigh succeeding ; for being thrown for a year or 
more among the fashionable and dissipated circles of 
the continent of Europe, his mind became diverted 
from the concerns of his soul's salvation, and he came 
back, to his father's great gratification, an accom- 
plished man of the world. But He who watched over 
him for good, suffered him not to remain long in this 



1666.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 211 

state of ease. He was mercifully made sensible that 
the pleasures of the world, and the maxims dictated 
by its spirit, were at enmity with God, and incompat- 
ible with an earnest seeking after that crown immor- 
tal, which was renewedly presented to his view as the 
only object worthy of his supreme desires. He was 
thus brought into great conflict of spirit; for his natural 
inclination, his lively and active disposition, his ac- 
quired accomplishments, the respect of his friends 
and acquaintance, and above all, the favour of a 
fondly attached parent, combined strongly to en- 
tice his youthful mind to embrace the glory and 
pleasures of this world, then courting his acceptance. 
The earnest supplication of his soul was put up 
to the Lord for preservation ; and He was pleased 
to grant him such a portion of His holy power and 
Spirit, as enabled him in time to overcome all opposi- 
tion, and with holy resolution to follow Christ, what- 
soever reproaches or persecutions might attend him. 

In the year ] 6Q6, and the twenty-second of his age, 
his father sent him to Ireland, to manage a consider- 
able estate there ; and being at Cork, and hearing 
that Thomas Loe, whom he had heard preach several 
years before at Oxford, was expected at a meeting in 
that city, he went to hear him. Thomas began his 
declaration with these words : " There is a faith that 
overcomes the world, and there is a faith that is over- 
come of the world :" and enlarging upon it with 
much clearness and energy, his living and powerful 
testimony made such impression upon William's 
spirit, that under the baptizing power thereof, he was 
effectually convinced that this was the people to 
whom he must attach himself; and he constantly 
afterwards attended the meetings of Friends, and 
was united in close fellowship with them. 

The next year he was called to testify, by patient 
suffering, his faithfulness to the principles he had 
espoused ; for being again at a meeting in Cork, he 
was apprehended, and with eighteen others, carried 



212 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1667. 

before the mayor, and committed to prison. The 
Earl of Orrery, however, Lord President of the pro- 
vince of Munster, with whom he was well acquaint- 
ed, on William's laying his case before him by letter, 
and pleading for liberty of conscience as a just right, 
ordered his discharge. 

And now came on another distressing conflict be- 
tween his father and himself. The former, by a let- 
ter from a nobleman of his acquaintance in Ireland, 
was informed of his son's attachment to this despised 
people, and promptly sending for him home, once 
more earnestly endeavoured to dissuade him from a 
course, which seemed to him to shut up from his son 
all avenues to the promotion which he desired for 
him. William deeply felt the affliction of being 
obliged by his regard for his own eternal welfare, to 
refrain from complying with these entreaties of an 
affectionate though mistaken parent ; and in agony of 
spirit, when his father threatened to disinherit him 
for his non-compliance, he lifted up his heart to God, 
for strength to support him in that hour of trial. 
When his father, finding him firmly fixed against a 
general acquiescence in the customary compliments, 
seemed inclined to bear with him at length in other 
respects, provided he would agree to take oil' his hat 
in the presence of the king, the duke of York, and 
himself, William, desiring, if he possibly could with a 
clear conscience, to comply with his father's wishes, 
requested time to consider of it, and promised to re- 
tire to his chamber until he should be prepared to 
return him an answer. Accordingly he withdrew ; 
and humbling himself before God, with fasting and 
supplication, to know His heavenly will, he became 
so strengthened in his resolution, that returning to 
his father, he signified that he could not disobey his 
heavenly Parent by the desired compliance. On this, 
his father, utterly disappointed, and convinced that all 
his endeavours to shake his son's constancy were in 
vain, and accustomed to the implicit obedience of the 



1666.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 213 

British navy, could no longer endure him in his sight, 
but again turned him out of doors. This was indeed 
a severe affliction to one of William's ardent and 
affectionate disposition ; but supported by an inward 
sense of rectitude, he endured the cross with Chris- 
tian patience and magnanimity. 

His father, after a time, became willing for him to 
return home once more, though he did not publicly 
appear to countenance him. 

About the year 16G8, being the twenty-fourth of 
his age, he first came forth in the ministry of the 
Gospel, rightly called to and qualified for that office ; 
being sent of God to teach what himself had learned 
of Him ; commissioned from on high to preach to 
others that holy self-denial himself had practiced ; 
and exemplifying in his own course the following 
beautiful description given by himself of the ministry 
of the early Friends. 

" As God," says he, " had delivered their souls 
from the wearisome burdens of sin and vanity, and 
enriched their poverty of spirit, and satisfied their 
hunger and thirst after eternal righteousness, and 
filled them with the good things of His own house, 
and made them stewards of his manifold gifts; so 
they went forth to all quarters of these nations, to 
declare to the inhabitants thereof what God had done 
for them ; what they had found, and where and how 
they had found it, viz : the way to peace with God ; 
inviting them to come, see, and taste for themselves, 
the truth of what they declared." 

" But these experimental preachers of glad tidings 
of God's truth and kingdom, could not run when they 
list, or pray or preach when they pleased ; but as 
Christ their Redeemer prepared and moved them by 
his own blessed Spirit ; for which they waited in 
their services and meetings, and spoke as that gave 
them utterance ; which was as those having author- 
ity, and not like the dreaming, dry, and formal Pha- 
risees." 

19 



214 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1668. 

" And truly they waxed strong and bold through 
faithfulness; and by the power and Spirit of the Lord 
Jesus became very fruitful ; thousands, in a short 
time, being turned to the truth in the inward parts 
through their testimony in ministry and sufferings ; 
many meetings were settled, and daily there were 
added such as should be saved. For they were dili- 
gent to plant and to water, and the Lord blessed 
their labours with an exceeding great increase, not- 
withstanding all the opposition made to their blessed 
progress, by false rumours, calumnies and bitter per- 
secutions." 

" It may be said of this abused and despised people, 
they went forth weeping and sowed in tears, bearing 
testimony to the precious Seed, the Seed of the king- 
dom, which stands not in words, (the finest, the 
highest that man's wit can use,) but in power — the 
power of Christ Jesus — who empowered them, as 
their work witnesseth, by the many that were turned 
through their ministry from darkness to the light, 
and out of the broad into the narrow way of life and 
peace, bringing people to a weighty, serious and 
godlike conversation." 

" They were changed men themselves, before they 
went about to change others. Their hearts were 
rent, as well as their garments ; and they knew the 
power and work of God upon them. This w^as seen 
by the great alteration it made, and their stricter 
course of life, and more godly conversation that im- 
mediately followed it. They went not. forth, or 
preached in their own time or will, but in the will 
of God; and spoke not their own studied matter, 
but as they were moved by His Spirit, with which 
they were well acquainted in their own conversion ; 
which cannot be expressed to carnal men, so as to 
give them any intelligible account ; for to such it is, 
as Christ said, like the blowing of the wind, which 
no man knows, whence it cometh, or whither it 
goeth. Yet this proof and seal went along with their 



1668.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 215 

ministry, that many were turned from their lifeless 
professions, and the evil of their ways, to an inward 
and experimental knowledge of God, and a holy life, 
as thousands can witness. And as they freely re- 
ceived what they had to say, from the Lord, so they 
freely administered it to others. 

" The bent and stress of their ministry was con- 
version to God, regeneration, and holiness. — They 
directed people to a principle in themselves, though 
not of themselves, by which all that they asserted 
might be known to them, through experience, to be 
true ; which is a high and distinguishing mark of the 
truth of their ministry, both that they knew what 
they said, and were not afraid of coming to the test. 
For as they were bold from certainty, so they re- 
quired conformity upon no human authority, but upon 
conviction of this principle, which, they asserted, 
was in them that they preached unto ; and unto that 
they directed them, that they might prove the reality 
of those things which they had affirmed of it, as to 
its manifestation and work in man. This is more 
than the many ministers in the world pretended to. 
They declare of religion, say many things true, in 
words, of God, Christ, and the Spirit ; of holiness, 
and heaven ; that all men should repent and amend 
their lives, or they will go to hell, &c. But which 
of them all pretend to speak of their own knowledge 
and experience ; or ever directed to a divine prin- 
ciple or agent, placed of God in man, to help him ; 
and how to know it, and wait to feel its power to 
work that good and acceptable will of God in them ? 
Some of them indeed have spoken of the Spirit, and 
the operations of it to sanctification, and perfor- 
mance of worship to God ; but where and how to 
find it, and wait in it to perform our duty to God, 
was yet as a mystery to be declared by this further 
degree of reformation. So that this people did not 
only in words, more than equally press repentance, 
conversion and holiness, but did it knowingly and 



216 HISTOKICAL MEMOIRS OF [1668. 

experimentally; and directed those to whom they 
preached, to a sufficient principle ; and told them 
where it was, and by what tokens they might know 
it, and which way they might experience the power 
and efficacy of it to their souls' happiness. Which is 
more than theory and speculation, upon which most 
other ministers depend : for here is certainty ; a bot- 
tom upon which man may boldly appear before God 
in the great day of account." 

In this spirit did William Penn go forth in the 
work of the ministry, and many were the sufferings 
and trials to which he was subjected, for his devotion 
to the cause which he had so heartily espoused. 
Some of the remarkable transactions of this enlight- 
ened man we shall have to review as we pass along. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



REMARKABLE CONVERSION OF A WOMAN IMPRISONED FOR 
MURDER. DEATH OF FRANCIS HOWGILL IN PRISON. 

A remarkable circumstance occurred during the 
imprisonment of William Bennit for conscience sake, 
in Bury gaol, in the year 1668. 

One day, he seriously accosted a certain young 
woman, who w~as a criminal, asking her, whether 
during the course of her life she had not many times 
transgressed against her conscience? and whether 
thereupon she had not often felt some secret checks 
and inward reproofs, and been troubled in her mind 
on account of the evil committed ? This he did in 
such a convincing way, that she not only assented 
to what he laid before her ; but, her heart being 
reached by his discourse, she came clearly to see, 
that if she had not been so stubborn and disobedient 



1668.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 217 

to these inward reproofs, she would not have come 
into this miserable condition. For man not desiring 
the knowledge of God's ways, and departing from 
Him, is left helpless, and cannot keep himself from 
evil, even though it be such as he would formerly 
have abhorred in the highest degree. 

William thus opening matters to her, by his whole- 
some admonitions so wrought upon -her mind, that 
she who never had conversed with the Quakers, and 
was altogether ignorant of their doctrine, now came 
to apprehend that it was " the grace of God which 
bringeth salvation," which she had so often with- 
stood ; and to perceive that this grace had not yet 
quite forsaken her, but was now making her sensible 
of the greatness of her transgression. This consider- 
ation weighed so powerfully with her, that from a 
most grievous sinner, she became a true penitent, 
and with hearty sorrow she cried to the Lord, that 
it might please Him not to hide his countenance. 
Continuing in this state of humiliation and sincere re- 
pentance, and persevering in watching unto prayer 
for the pardon of her sins, she was at length favoured 
with a sure hope of forgiveness, through the precious 
blood of the " Immaculate Lamb," who came into 
the world to save sinners, and call them to repent- 
ance, and who died also for the sins of the world. 

Of this change, graciously wrought in her by the 
Spirit of Christ revealed in her heart, she gave clear 
evidence, at her trial before Judge Hale ; who, having 
heard how penitent she was, wished much to save 
her from the capital punishment due by the law to 
her offence, and accordingly had procured the in- 
sertion in the indictment, of the words " wilfully and 
designedly," hoping that thence she might find oc- 
casion to deny the charge, and so to quash the in- 
dictment. But she, being as usual asked whether 
" Guilty or Not Guilty ?' readily answered, " Guilty." 
This astonished the judge, who told her that she 
seemed not duly to consider what she said ; since it 
19* 



218 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1668. 

could not well be believed, that such a one as she, 
who, it might be, had inconsiderately handled her 
child in a rough manner, should have wilfully and de- 
signedly killed it. Here the judge was opening as it 
were a back door for her to avoid the penalty of 
death. But now, the fear of God had obtained so 
much room in her heart, that no tampering would do 
— no fig leaves could be made use of for a cover — 
she knew that this would have been adding sin to sin, 
and covering herself with a covering but not of God's 
Spirit. She therefore plainly acknowledged to the 
court, that she had indeed committed this wicked act 
intentionally ; adding, that " having sinned thus griev- 
ously, and being now affected with true repentance, 
she could by no means excuse herself, but was will- 
ing to undergo the punishment the law required. She 
could not therefore but acknowledge herself guilty, 
since otherwise how could she expect forgiveness 
from the Lord ?" 

This undisguised and free confession, spoken with 
a serious countenance and demeanour, so affected 
Judge Hale, that with tears trickling down his face, 
he sorrowfully said, " Woman, such a case as this I 
never met with before. Perhaps you, who are but 
young, and speak so piously, as being struck to the 
heart with repentance, might yet do much good in 
the world. But now 7 you force me, that ex officio I 
must pronounce sentence of death against you, since 
you will admit of no excuse." Standing to what she 
had said, the judge then pronounced the sentence of 
death. 

When afterwards she came to the place of execu- 
tion, she made a pathetic speech to the people, exhort- 
ing the spectators, especially those who were young, 
to have the fear of God before their eyes, to give heed 
to His secret reproofs for evil, and so not to grieve 
and resist the good Spirit of the Lord : she not having 
timely attended to this, had run on in evil, and thus 
proceeding from one wickedness to another, had 



1668.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 219 

brought herself to this dismal exit. But since she firmly 
trusted in God's infinite mercy, nay surely believed 
that her sins, though of a bloody dye, were washed 
off by the pure blood of Christ, her Redeemer, she 
could contentedly depart this life. Thus she preached 
at the gallows, a doctrine very consonant with the 
views of the people called Quakers, and gave heart- 
melting proofs that her immortal soul was to enter 
into paradise, as well as in ancient days that of the 
thief on the cross. 

This year, died Francis Howgill, a prisoner for the 
cause of Truth, in Appleby gaol. He had been im- 
prisoned in the year 1663, and the next year sentenced 
under premunire, to be confined during his life, and 
his property confiscated to the king ; without any 
other crime being found against him, than that he 
could not transgress the command of his Divine Mas- 
ter, to " swear not at all," nor bind himself by any 
agreement to forsake the assembling together with 
his Friends for the worship of Almighty God, in 
spirit and in truth. " Hard sentence," he remarked 
to the court, " for obeying the command of Christ : 
but I am content, and in perfect peace with the Lord ; 
and the Lord forgive you all — it is for Christ's sake I 
suffer, and not for evil doing." Being by this sen- 
tence " put out of the king's protection," he was re- 
manded to the prison where he first suffered for his 
righteous testimony, and remained there until released 
by death, towards the end of the year 1668, after an 
illness of nine days. 

During his long imprisonment in this filthy gaol, he 
evinced the peaceful condition of his soul, by great 
patience and resignation to all his sufferings ; and his 
outward losses were abundantly compensated by that 
inward consolation which the Lord alone can bestow. 
As he approached the close of life, having passed the 
time of his sojourning here in fear, he met his change 
with great serenity, and felt the sting of death to be 
taken away. He said he was content and ready to 



220 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1668. 

die— praised the Almighty for the many sweet enjoy- 
ments and refreshing seasons, wherewith he had been 
favoured, while lying on that prison-bed, — and freely 
forgave all who had had a hand in his restraint. To 
his wife and others, two days before his death, he 
gave a message of his dear love to his friends, adding, 
"As for me, 1 am well, and content to die — I am not 
afraid at all of death." And the mayor of Appleby 
visiting him, and some persons present, praying that 
God mi^ht speak peace to his soul, he answered em- 
phatically, " He hath done it." 

A few hours before he departed, some friends from 
a distance came to visit him in his prison. He en- 
quired after their welfare, and prayed fervently, " that 
the Lord by his mighty power might preserve them 
out of all such things as would spot and defile." His 
voice soon afterwards failed through weakness ; but 
recovering, he said, "I have sought the way of the 
Lord from a child, and lived innocently among men ; 
and if any inquire concerning my latter end, let them 
know, that I die in the faith which I have lived in and 
suffered for." After this, he uttered a few words in 
prayer, and so finished his earthly course in perfect 
peace, in the fiftieth year of his age. Conspicuous for 
his virtues, and the innocence and integrity of his life, 
the malicious efforts of his enemies were unable to 
sully his reputation ; he was generally respected and 
esteemed by those who knew him, even though not of 
his religious persuasion ; his sufferings were commis- 
erated, and the unmerited cruelty of his persecutors 
justly condemned. 



1668.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS, 221 



CHAPTER XXV. 

MEETINGS FOR DISCIPLINE INSTITUTED IN THE SOCIETY. 

GEORGE FOX GOES TO AMERICA AND RETURNING, IS 

IMPRISONED AT WORCESTER. 

It was about this time that the Society of Friends 
assumed the form of a more regularly organized body, 
under the advice of George Fox and those deeply 
experienced men and women who felt and laboured 
with him, by the institution of meetings held period- 
ically, for the good ordering of the affairs of the 
church. It will therefore be appropriate in this part of 
our history, to consider briefly the steps by which this 
important and highly useful feature was gradually 
introduced. 

Many of the early members of the Society were 
poor as to this world's goods, though rich in faith ; 
and the constant persecutions to which for many years 
they were subjected, reduced many of them to great 
destitution. But brotherly kindness abounded. Those 
who possessed pecuniary means remembered to do 
good and to communicate ; they dared not esteem all 
that they possessed as exclusively their own ; but felt 
bound to use it freely, in relieving with a noble libe- 
rality the necessities of their suffering brethren, re- 
membering that they were all members of one body, 
" striving together for the faith of the gospel," and 
when one member suffered, all the members must 
suffer with it. This feeling being general, and the 
necessities of families deprived of their means of sub- 
sistence by the imprisonment of one or both of the 
heads being often pressing, the propriety of meeting 
together occasionally, to consider the circumstances 
of such, became apparent ; and hence the first meet- 
ings for the affairs of the church had their origin. In 
the accomplishment of their marriages also, they 



222 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1668. 

could not conscientiously follow the practice, either of 
those on the one hand, who, forgetting the religious 
nature of the compact, and considering it as a merely 
civil act, were accustomed to accomplish it before a 
magistrate ; or on the other, of those who called in 
the assistance of a hireling ministry, and thus sanc- 
tioned an interference with the prerogative of the 
Lord alone to join persons in that solemn covenant. 
They were thus led to the performance of their mar- 
riages among themselves : and remembering the apos- 
tolic advice, that " all things be done decently and in 
order," they were especially careful in this solemn 
undertaking, that no cause of offence should be given, 
by joining persons already entangled iu other engage- 
ments, or so nearly related as to render such con- 
nexion improper, or by any appearance of secrecy in 
the manner of accomplishing it. In connexion also 
with this subject, was the due recording of births and 
deaths, taken care of by these early meetings for busi- 
ness. 

Strict integrity and uprightness was one of the first 
fruits of that spirit by which our early Friends were 
led to forsake the ways of a corrupt world. They 
considered the prevailing standard much below the 
morality required by the Gospel ; and regulating their 
conduct towards their fellow-man by the rule laid 
down by our blessed Saviour, " Whatsoever ye 
would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to 
them ;" their truthfulness and honesty drew upon 
them the observation of their neighbours. George 
Fox was anxious that all should walk consistently 
with the high character the Society had obtained, and 
not be induced to extend their business improperly, or 
promote their worldly advantage by unfair means. 
Several of his early epistles recommended well- con- 
cerned Friends to watch over their brethren in love ; 
and many of his fellow -labourers earnestly endea- 
voured to promote that Christian moderation which 
avoids rather than seeks riches, as well as the exer- 






1668.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 223 

cise of caution in contracting, and promptness in 
paying debts. 

The care also of granting certificates to those who 
travelled in the work of the ministry, testifying the 
unity of their Friends at home with their so doing ; 
and for those who removed to settle within other 
monthly meetings; the religious education of the youth, 
which was a subject very near the heart of George 
Fox, as vitally affecting the progressive welfare of the 
Society ; the purchase and care of burial grounds, 
where the deceased members might be interred, free 
from the officious interference of the priests, and away 
from the crowd of costly and pompous monuments, 
which they considered inconsistent with the profession 
of a Christian, and designed to gratify the pride of sur- 
vivors; — these were among the subjects which early en- 
gaged the attention of those gatherings of the church, 
which George Fox had seen it right to recommend to 
his Friends to establish, for the regulation of their com- 
mon affairs. And last, though not least in importance, 
the preservation of the conduct of the members clear 
from inconsistencies and stains, and breaches of those 
testimonies which they were as a body holding forth 
before the world, rendered the necessity obvious, as 
the Society rapidly increased in numbers, that some 
mode of church government should be instituted, by 
which the conduct of the members might be inspected 
and restrained. George Fox considered the church 
as a harmonious and compact body, made up of living 
members, having gifts differing according to the mea- 
sure of grace received, yet all dependent one on 
another, and each, even the weakest and lowest, 
having his proper place and service : and as the very 
design of religious society is the preservation, com- 
fort, and edification of the members, and all have a 
common interest herein, so he considered every faith- 
ful member religiously bound to contribute, according 
to his capacity, toward this attainment. Our Lord 
himself laid down a rule for the observance of his 



224 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1668. 

church, in the treatment of those who should commit 
offences. " If thy brother shall trespass against thee, 
go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone. 
If he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother. 
But if he will not hear thee, then take with thee one 
or two more ; that in the mouth of two or three wit- 
nesses, every word may be established. And if he 
shall neglect to hear them, tell it to the church ; but if 
he neglect to hear the church, let him be unto thee as 
an heathen man and a publican." And the apostle 
Paul, in writing to the Galatians, thus exhorts them : 
" Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye who 
are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meek- 
ness ; considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted." 
These injunctions were the fundamental principles of 
the discipline established by the Society of Friends, sim- 
ple, beautiful, and when fully carried out in practice, 
often efficient, under the influence of the Holy Spirit, 
in reclaiming the wanderer from the fold. 

The first General Meeting of the Society was per- 
haps that held at Balby, in Yorkshire, in 1656, which 
issued certain wholesome advices. Quarterly Meet- 
ings were soon afterwards established, which appear 
to have exercised much the same functions as our 
Monthly Meetings now have. In the year 1668, the 
Monthly Meetings were generally settled through 
England. The same year there was a General Meet- 
ing held in London, from which an epistle was issued 
to the Society ; and in 1672, another General Meeting 
of ministers, held also in London, at which it was 
agreed that a representative General Meeting should 
be annually held in London, " for the better ordering, 
managing, and regulating of the public affairs of 
Friends." The Representative Yearly Meeting, how- 
ever, which met in the succeeding year, concluded to 
leave the management of these affairs, and the gene- 
ral care of the church, for the present, in the hands of 
the annual General Meeting of Ministers ; and it was 
not till the year 1678, that they were again convened 



1669.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 225 

at the suggestion of the latter meeting. Since that 
time, they have regularly been held every year in 
London, for the care and government of that portion 
of the Society which sends representatives thereto. 
Monthly Meetings in some parts of America, were 
established about the year 1669 ; and a Yearly Meet- 
ing was held in Rhode Island, for the Society in New 
England, in 1671, if not a year or two previously. 
Other Yearly Meetings were subsequently established 
in the North American colonies, as the increase of the 
Society rendered it necessary. 

The Society has now for many years been thus 
organized. The members residing at convenient dis- 
tances from each other, whether composing one par- 
ticular meeting for worship, or more than one, unite 
to form a " Monthly Meeting," for the transaction of 
the affairs of the church, composed of one or more 
subordinate or " Preparative" meetings, in which some 
portions of the business are prepared for the action of 
the former body. Several of these monthly meetings 
united, form a " Quarterly" meeting, to which repre- 
sentatives are sent from each of the constituent month- 
ly meetings ; and again the quarterly meetings situ- 
ated in a particular country or state, or in contiguous 
states, form a " Yearly" meeting. These yearly meet- 
ings, of which there are at present ten* regularly 
acknowledged, are the highest assemblies known to 
the Society, and only amenable to the judgment 
of Truth in the body at large, by whom they are 
owned as a part of the great brotherhood of the 
church. Each Yearly Meeting, during its recess, 
delegates certain powers to a committee, entitled the 
" Meeting for Sufferings," so named from being ori- 
ginally appointed to take cognizance of the sufferings 



* Whilst this work has been passing 1 through the press, the Yearly 
Meeting of Virginia, which has been much reduced by emigration to 
the Western country, has, with the advice of the neighbouring Yearly 
Meetings, been attached lo that of Baltimore. 

20 



226 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1671. 

of the members for a faithful maintenance of their 
religious testimonies ; though the business of these 
meetings is now of a more general character, em- 
bracing the various interests of the Society. Besides 
the above, there are Monthly or Preparative, Quarterly 
and Yearly Meetings of the Ministers and Elders, in 
connexion with the respective meetings for discipline. 
These "select meetings" are designed to be composed 
of such ministers as, having given proof of a divine 
gift for the ministry, have been officially recognized 
in that capacity by their Friends, and of elders ap- 
pointed to watch over the ministry particularly, and 
generally over the flock. Besides the elders, there 
are overseers appointed in each Monthly Meeting, to 
take a more special charge of the conduct of the 
members, and to see that all walk orderly, according 
to their Christian profession. 

It early appeared to the clear and comprehensive 
mind of George Fox, that advantage would arise to 
the body, from the concerns of the female members 
being attended to by their own sex : and accordingly, 
women's meetings for discipline were recommended 
by him to be held in the same manner as those for the 
men, to whom they might be help-meets, in the resto- 
ration of offenders, in the care of their own poor, 
and in other affairs of the church, as they are out- 
wardly in civil and temporal things. They were 
instituted soon after those for the men, and served to 
complete that system of order and government, in 
which a field was opened for the exercise of the 
various gifts by which the church, the body of Christ, 
is edified. 

A new field of operation now opened before the 
expansive mind of that remarkable man, who was so 
eminent an instrument in the good work which we 
have just contemplated. 

George Fox's wife had lain for about ten years in 
prison, under a sentence of premunire ; but was re- 
leased in 1671 ; and shortly afterwards, George find- 



1671.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 227 

ing it laid upon him to visit the churches beyond the 
Atlantic, took leave of her and his numerous other 
friends in England, and sailed in company with seve- 
ral Friends for Barbadoes. Two remarkable inter- 
positions of the protecting care of Divine Providence 
attended him during this voyage. The ship was 
chased by a Sallee*' man-of-war, when about three 
weeks at sea, and seemed to have no way of escape 
from her. She gained rapidly upon them, though 
they altered their course with the hope of eluding her 
pursuit. At night the captain and others came into 
George Fox's cabin, asking him " what they must 
do ?" He told them, " he was no mariner." They 
said, " there were but two ways of escape — either to 
outrun the enemy, or to tack about." George replied, 
that " they might be sure the enemy would tack about 
too; and as for outrunning him, it was to no purpose 
to talk of that, for they saw he sailed faster than they 
did." They asked him again, in consternation and 
perplexity, " what they should do ? for," they added, 
" if the mariners had taken Paul's counsel, they had 
not come to the damage they did." George answer- 
ed them, that " it was a trial of faith, and therefore 
the Lord was to be waited on for counsel ;" and retir- 
ing, himself, in spirit unto the Almighty, the Lord 
showed him " that His divine life and power was 
placed between them and the ship that pursued them." 
He told this to the captain, desiring that all the lights, 
except the one used to steer by, should be put out, 
and that all should remain very quiet. About eleven 
o'clock at night, the man on watch called out that 
the enemy was just upon them ; which alarmed some 
of the passengers. George looking out of the port- 
hole of his cabin, by the light of the moon, which 
had not quite set, saw them very near the vessel; and 



* Sallee, or Sale, a town on the coast of Morocco, about half-way 
between Cape Blanco and Tangier, noted for the boldness of its pirates, 
but now much in ruins. 



228 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1671. 

\v*as getting up to go on deck ; but remembering the 
Lord's word, which had been whispered into his men- 
tal ear, " that His life and power was placed between 
them," he quietly lay down again, and awaited the 
result in faith. In a little time, the moon went down, 
a fresh breeze arose, the Lord hid them from the 
enemy, and they sailed briskly on, and saw them no 
more. The next day, being the First-day of the 
week, Friends had a public meeting for worship on 
board, in which the Divine presence was eminently 
felt : and George Fox exhorted the ship's company 
" to mind the mercies of the Lord, who had delivered 
them ; for they might all have been by that time in 
the hands of the Turks, had not the Lord's hand saved 
them." It afterwards appeared, by the testimony of 
a merchant who arrived in Barbadoes from the port 
to which this piratical vessel belonged, that its captain 
had been struck with the remarkable deliverance of 
their ship out of his hands, when he thought himself 
sure of the prize, and acknowledged his belief that 
" there was a spirit in her which he could not take." 

Soon after George Fox's arrival in Barbadoes, he 
was informed of the death of a young man who had im- 
bibed an implacable enmity against him, and meditated 
his destruction. This young man, a person of some 
worldly account, but a common swearer and very 
bad man, when in London some time before, had 
addressed the daughter of a Friend in order to mar- 
riage, having an eye to her property. George being 
one of her guardians, had plainly told him that " he 
should betray the trust reposed in him, if he should 
consent that he, who was out of the fear of God, 
should marry her ; and that he would not do it." The 
young man returned to Barbadoes greatly incensed, 
and afterwards, hearing that George was likely soon 
to arrive in the island, he swore desperately, and 
threatened that " if he could possibly procure it, he 
would have him burned to death when he came there." 
Repeating this threat to a Friend, who was expostu- 



1672.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 229 

lating with him, the latter warned him : " Do not 
march on too furiously, lest thou come too soon to 
thy journey's end." About ten days after this, he was 
struck with a violent burning fever, of which he died, 
and was carried to the grave three days before George 
arrived in the island. 

The constitution of this indefatigable labourer in the 
Lord's vineyard had been much shattered by the severe 
sufferings he had undergone for many years in the 
service of truth ; so that the voyage greatly affected 
him, and he was, for many weeks after his arrival, 
laid up with severe illness. But being favoured at 
length with a recovery, he was diligent in strengthen- 
ing the Society in that distant part, and building them 
up in comely gospel order. Here also, in conjunction 
with some other Friends, he drew up an address to 
the governor and council of Barbadoes, setting forth, 
in the name of the Society, their true Christian belief 
in the divinity and atonement of our Lord and Saviour 
Jesus Christ, and in the divine inspiration of the Holy 
Scriptures ; and vindicating Friends from the mali- 
cious charge, which some had brought against them, 
of teaching the negroes to rebel, because they felt it 
to be their Christian duty to treat them kindly, to give 
them instruction, and to hold meetings with them for 
divine worship and religious edification. 

Having remained in Barbadoes about three months, 
George Fox, William Edmundson, Elizabeth Hooton, 
and some other Friends departed to Jamaica, where 
they travelled up and down the island, and had much 
service. Many were convinced of the truth of their 
principles, and they met with no opposition. Here 
Elizabeth Hooton, who had received a gift in the min- 
istry as early as 1650, and was consequently the first 
female minister raised up among Friends, peacefully 
laid down the body, and departed to her heavenly 
rest. 

George Fox, William Edmundson, and Robert 
Widders, having spent about seven weeks in Jamai- 
20* 



230 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1672. 

ca, embarked for Maryland. They had a very tem- 
pestuous voyage, and ran short of provisions; but 
through the goodness of the Lord, in whose protecting 
care they trusted, they were favoured to arrive safely. 
A vessel which sailed in company with them, the cap- 
tain of which had offered to convey the Friends to 
Maryland, but demanded an exorbitant price for their 
passage, fell among the Spaniards ; by whom she was 
taken and plundered, and the master and mate were 
made prisoners. 

Near the place where they landed, they held seve- 
ral meetings with Friends, and with the native In- 
dians of the country ; and then George Fox and his 
companions travelled through the woods to Newcas- 
tle on the Delaware, crossed that river in canoes, with 
great risk to their lives, and dived into the forests of 
what is now called New Jersey ; but which was then 
inhabited only by Indians. They had a wilderness 
journey, sometimes lying at nights in the woods by a 
fire, and at other times in the Indians' wigwams. 
They hastened to be at the half-yearly meeting of 
Friends at Oyster Bay, on Long Island, where they 
laboured successfully for the establishment of whole- 
some discipline in the church, to the exposing and 
confounding of some ranting spirits, who had " run 
out from truth into prejudice, contention, and opposi- 
tion to the order of Truth, and to Friends therein." 
These, George Fox says, " had been very trouble- 
some to Friends — but I would not suffer the service 
of our men's and women's meetings to be interrupted 
and hindered by their cavils." A subsequent meeting 
was appointed for a conference with these opposers, at 
which, he adds, " the glorious truth of God was ex- 
alted and set over all, and they were all brought down 
and bowed under ; which was of great service to 
truth, and satisfaction and comfort to Friends; Glory 
to the Lord forever." 

Thence they proceeded by sea to Rhode Island ; 
and attended the Yearly Meeting for New England ; 



1672.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 231 

in which also George Fox was much concerned for 
the establishment of meetings for discipline, " that all 
might be kept clean," and " to take care of the poor, 
and other affairs of the church ; and to see, that all 
who profess truth, walk according to the glorious 
gospel of God." He was very gladly received by 
the people generally in Rhode Island and the parts 
adjacent ; but finding they began to talk of hiring him 
to be their minister, not understanding the principles 
of Friends, he told some, that " it was time for him 
to be gone ; for if their eye was so much to him, or 
any of his companions, they would not come to their 
own Teacher," even Christ Jesus, the Minister of 
ministers. He accordingly departed to Shelter Island, 
had some good meetings there with the white inhabi- 
tants and with the native Indians ; then returned to 
Long Island ; and afterwards crossed to New Jersey 
again. They rode thirty miles through the woods 
and over very bad bogs, the descent into one of which 
was so steep, that they had to slide down with their 
horses, and then let them lie to take breath, before 
they could proceed. Among Friends in New Jersey, 
who, it seems, were principally about Shrewsbury, 
he was again instrumental in promoting the establish- 
ment of men's and women's meetings for the disci- 
pline of the church, " to see that all who profess the 
holy truth, live in the pure religion, and walk as be- 
cometh the gospel." 

While they were at Shrewsbury, an accident occur- 
red, which was near proving fatal to one of their 
company. John Jay, a Friend of Barbadoes, who 
had accompanied them from Rhode Island, and was 
escorting them through the woods to Maryland, was 
thrown from a horse, and supposed to have " broken 
his neck," He was taken up as dead, and laid upon 
a log. George Fox got to him as soon as he could, 
and feeling him, concluded he was really dead : but 
as he stood by him, pitying him and his family, he 
found his neck was so limber, that his head would 



232 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1673. 

turn any way. Whereupon, he took the Friend's 
head in both his hands, and setting his knees against 
the log, he raised the head with all his might, and 
restored it to its place. The dislocation of the neck 
being thus reduced, he soon began to breathe ; and 
other measures being taken for his restoration, he 
quickly recovered, so as to be able to resume his 
journey with them the next day. 

They now had a long and dreary wilderness jour- 
ney again to encounter, across New Jersey and down 
towards the Delaware Bay. Philadelphia was not in 
existence, and they met with few except Indians, had 
many rivers to cross, were often very w T et with expo- 
sure to storms, and had to lie generally in the woods 
at night. This autumn and much of the ensuing win- 
ter, they spent in travelling through Maryland, Virgi- 
nia and some parts of Carolina; and towards the 
spring of 1673, "having" as Geo. Fox expresses it, 
" alarmed people of all sorts where they came, and 
proclaimed the day of God's salvation amongst them, 
they found their spirits began to be clear of those 
parts of the world, and to draw towards Old England 
again." Accordingly, after attending the general 
meeting of Friends for Maryland, which "was a 
wonderful, glorious meeting, and the mighty presence 
of the Lord w T as seen and felt over all," George and 
his companions took leave of their Friends in great 
tenderness, and sailed for England; where, after a 
prosperous voyage, they were favoured to arrive in 
safety, on the 28th of the Fourth month, 1673. 

This indefatigable servant of Christ had not been 
long returned to his native land, before he was called 
to suffer a long and hard imprisonment, for preaching 
at a religious meeting in Worcestershire. He was 
sentenced under premunire to imprisonment for life. 
Interest w r as made by some to the king to get him 
released ; but he knowing his innocence, would not 
accept of a pardon, which was the only way in which 
the king could release him. As the acceptance of this 



1670.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 233 

would have implied a confession of guilt, George Fox 
declared that he would rather have lain in prison all 
his days, than come out in any way dishonourable to 
the truth ; and therefore, knowing that his imprison- 
ment was not only unjust but illegal also, he chose to 
have the validity of his indictment tried before Judge 
Hale ; who released him by proclamation, after having 
been a prisoner nearly fourteen months. He was 
thus fairly set at liberty without any pardon, or coming 
under any engagement or obligation to compromise 
his principles. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE TRIAL OF WILLIAM PENN AND WILLIAM MEAD AT THE 
OLD BAILEY DESTRUCTION OF FRIENDS' MEETING-HOUSES. 

An iVct of Parliament, called the Conventicle Act, 
was passed in the year 1670, the intent of which was 
to suppress all meetings for divine worship except 
those of the established form of religion, particularly 
those of the Presbyterians, who were obnoxious to the 
court ; though its force fell principally upon Friends, 
who stood most exposed to its action, from their well 
known practice of standing firmly for their principles, 
and not flinching from sufiering for the cause of their 
Divine Master. 

The zeal of the magistrates of London in carrying 
into effect this oppressive law, and the noble intrepi- 
dity of William Penn in defence of his inalienable 
rights, brought about this year one of the most memor- 
able judicial trials in English history ; which did more 
to promote clear views of the liberty of conscience, 
and to establish the great privilege of trial by jury on 
its just foundation, than perhaps was ever effected by 
the personal exertions of any other man. Its import- 



234 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1670. 

ance will warrant our pursuing it in some of its 
details. 

Friends being forcibly kept out of their meeting- 
houses in Gracechurch street, found themselves con- 
strained to meet as near the premises as practicable ; 
and accordingly held their meeting in the open street, 
as a public testimony of their allegiance to the God of 
the spirits of all flesh. William Penn was one of the 
number thus assembled, and addressing the people in 
the love and authority of the Gospel, he and William 
Mead were apprehended and committed to Newgate 
prison ; and at the next sessions at the Old Bailey 
w^ere indicted for " being present at, and preaching to, 
an unlawful, seditious, and riotous assembly." 

The indictment set forth, that William Penn and 
William Mead, with other persons to the number of 
three hundred, on the 15th of August, w T ith force and 
arms tumultuously assembled, and that William Penn, 
by agreement between him and William Mead, had 
preached there in the public street, whereby was 
caused a great concourse of people, to the great dis- 
turbance of the peace, and terror of the king's subjects. 
To this indictment they both pleaded " not guilty ;" 
after which they were detained in court five hours, 
waiting for the trial of some felons, and then returned 
to Newgate prison. Two days after, they were 
brought up again ; when the court more openly mani- 
fested a preconcerted design to treat them with the 
utmost severity, and take every unfair advantage 
against them ; although they had before promised 
William Penn on his urgent remonstrance, that no 
advantage should be taken of them, but that they 
should have liberty to be heard in their own defence. 
On this occasion, coming into court, the officers had 
taken off the hats of the prisoners ; but the mayor 
sharply reproved their officiousness, as it did not suit 
his present intentions, and ordered their hats to be re- 
placed ; and when they thus appeared in the court cov- 
ered, they were fined for it forty marks apiece, the in- 



1670.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 235 

justice of which was particularly evident in William 
Mead's case, inasmuch as he had not even been spoken 
to by the court on the subject. The jury were desir- 
ed to take notice of this arbitrary act : after which 
three witnesses deposed that they saw William Penn 
speaking to the people assembled in great numbers in 
the street ; but they could not hear what he said. 
William Penn, to this, after requesting silence in the 
court, addressed them thus : " We confess ourselves 
to be so far from declining to vindicate the assembling 
of ourselves, to preach, pray, or worship the eternal, 
holy, just God, that we declare to all the world, that 
we do believe it to be our indispensable duty to meet 
incessantly upon so good an account ; nor shall all the 
powers upon earth be able to divert us from reverenc- 
ing and adoring our God, who made us." One of the 
sheriffs told him he was not there for worshipping God, 
but for breaking the law ; though they had made the 
act of worshipping according to conscience, a breach 
of the law. William Penn denied having broken any 
law, or of being guilty of the indictment, and de- 
manded to be informed by what law he was prose- 
cuted, that the jury might understand on w 7 hat ground 
they were asked to give a verdict. The recorder 
answered, "upon the common law;" to which Wil- 
liam Penn desired that the law might be produced ; 
which w 7 as declined ; and he still persisting in demand- 
ing it, as otherwise it would be impossible for the 
jury to determine their verdict clearly, the recorder 
suffered his passion to carry him beyond the bounds 
of decency, and freely lavished on William Penn, the 
epithets of a saucy, impertinent, troublesome, and 
pestilent fellow," — and told him it was not for the 
honour of the court to allow him to go on. William 
Penn remarked, " I have asked but one question, and 
you have not answered me ; though the rights and 
privileges of every Englishman be concerned in it." 
The recorder replied, "If. I should suffer you to ask 
questions till to-morrow morning, you would be never 



236 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1670. 

the wiser ;" to which William Penn promptly rejoined, 
" That is according as the answers are." The re- 
corder said : " Sir, we must not stand to hear you 
talk all night." William Penn then observed ; " I 
design no affront to the court ; but to be heard in my 
just plea ; and I must plainly tell you, that if you will 
deny me the ' oyer ' [hearing] of that law which you 
suggest I have broken, you do at once deny me an 
acknowledged right, and evidence to the whole world 
your resolution to sacrifice the privileges of English- 
men to your sinister and arbitrary designs." And 
going on in earnest expostulation with the court on 
the arbitrary nature of their proceedings, and showing 
how the dearest social rights of man, guaranteed to 
Englishmen by their ancient fundamental laws, were 
thus invaded, he was rudely ordered to " be silent, 
there !" and haled into the bail -dock. William Mead 
followed his companion in pleading for their privilege 
to be informed of the law under which they were in- 
dicted, and told the jury he stood there to answer an 
indictment which was full of lies and falsehoods, for 
therein he was accused of meeting with force and 
arms, unlawfully and tumultously ; and boldly claim- 
ing his rights as an Englishman, he was told by the 
Lord Mayor that he deserved to have his tongue cut 
out, and he also was taken aside into the bail-dock. 

The recorder then proceeded to charge the jury, 
urging them, at their peril, to attend to the evidence 
that had been produced against the prisoners. But 
William Penn, who from a distance heard what was 
going on in the court, raised himself up by the rails 
of the bail-dock, and with a loud voice thus remon- 
strated against this unjust proceeding : " I appeal to 
the jury, who are my judges, and this great assem- 
bly, whether the proceedings of the court are not 
most arbitrary, and void of all law, in offering to 
give the jury their charge in the absence of the pri- 
soners. I say, it is directly opposite to, and destruc- 
tive of the undoubted right of every English pri- 



1670.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 237 

soner ;" referring to Coke on Magna Charta. He 
added that the jury could not legally leave the court 
before he had been fully heard, and that he had at 
least ten or twelve material points to offer, in order 
to invalidate the indictment. But the recorder cried 
out, " Pull that fellow down — pull him down ! Take 
them away into the hole ;" and they were accord- 
ingly thrust into a noisome hole, and detained there, 
while the jury went up to agree on their verdict. 

After staying about an hour and a half, eight of 
them came down agreed ; but four being dissatisfied 
remained above. The bench was highly provoked 
that these jury-men should obstruct their designs; 
and using many threats against them, very unbecom- 
ing the seat of justice, sent them back to consider 
their verdict. After some time, returning to the 
court, they rendered a verdict against William Penn, 
of " guilty of speaking in Grace-church street," and 
declared William Mead " not guilty." This the 
court refused to accept, and insidiously endeavoured 
to extort expressions from some of the jurymen, to 
procure a verdict more to their purpose ; as " that 
William Penn was speaking to an unlawful assem- 
bly:" but several of them firmly refused to admit 
any alteration in the verdict to which they had 
agreed. The court thereupon repeated their abusive 
language towards them, and sent them away again 
to bring in a verdict more to their mind. On their 
return, they produced a verdict in writing, to the 
same effect as before, signed by the whole jury ; at 
which the Lord Mayor and recorder fell into a great 
rage, and the latter swore that they would have a 
verdict, or the jury should starve for it; telling them 
they should be locked up, without meat, drink, fire, 
or tobacco. 

This drew the following remonstrance from Wil- 
liam Penn: "My jury, who are my judges, ought 
not to be thus menaced. Their verdict should be 
free, and not compelled. The bench ought to wait 

21 



238 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1670. 

upon them, but not forestall them. I do desire that 
justice may be done me, and that the arbitrary re- 
solves of the bench may not be made the measure of 
my jury's verdict." 

" Stop that prating fellow's mouth," cried the re- 
corder, "or put him out of the court." And the lord 
mayor telling the jury "that William Penn had 
gathered a company of tumultuous people," William 
Penn replied, " It is a mistake ; we did not make the 
tumult, but they that interrupted us ; the jury cannot 
be so ignorant as to think we met with a design to 
disturb the civil peace. We were with force of arms 
kept out of our lawful house, and met as near it in 
the street as the soldiers would give us leave. It is 
no new thing, nor with the circumstances expressed 
in the indictment ; but what was usual with us. It is 
very well known that we are a peaceable people, 
and cannot offer violence to any man." He then in- 
sisted that the agreement of twelve men is a verdict ; 
requiring the clerk to record it ; and addressing him- 
self to the jury, said, " You are Englishmen — mind 
your privileges — give not away your right." To 
which some of them replied, " Nor will we ever do 
it." 

The prisoners were now remanded to prison, and 
the jury shut up all night in their room without fire, 
food, or any accommodations. 

The next morning, which was the First-day of the 
week, the court resumed its sitting, and the jury 
being called, declared they could give no other ver- 
dict than that which they had already agreed on ; 
which answer occasioned the magistrates again to 
burst forth with rage and disappointment, and en- 
deavours to brow-beat and intimidate them into a 
compliance with their wishes. William Penn in- 
quired whether the jury's finding William Mead " not 
guilty" was not a verdict 1 But the recorder would 
not admit it. 

Again were the jury remanded to their room, and 



1670.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 239 

again they returned with the same verdict as before ; 
on which the lord mayor, transported with anger, 
and referring to one of the jurors whom the recorder 
had singled out as the most obnoxious, exclaimed, 
" Have you no more wit, than to be led by such a 
pitiful fellow ? I will cut his nose !" And William 
Penn protesting against his jury being thus illegally 
threatened, the recorder said to the mayor, " My 
lord, you must take a course with that same fellow ;" 
at which the lord mayor cried out, " Stop his mouth ! 
Jailer, bring fetters, and stake him to the ground." — 
" Do your pleasure," calmly observed William Penn; 
" I matter not your fetters." 

The jury after considerable discussion, were once 
more shut up for the night ; and the next morning 
being called upon for their verdict, unanimously 
brought both the prisoners in " not guilty" to the dis- 
appointment and chagrin of the bench, but to the 
great satisfaction of the large assembly of people who 
had witnessed these arbitrary proceedings. The re- 
corder immediately fined each of the jurors forty 
marks, with imprisonment till paid, for venturing to 
bring in a verdict so contrary to the views of the 
court ; and maliciously detained the prisoners for the 
fine, for coming into the court at first with their hats 
on, though he was reminded that the great charter 
of English liberties declared that " no free man should 
be amerced but by the oath of good and lawful men 
of the vicinage ;" whereas they had not had even the 
form of an examination on this matter. The jury re- 
mained some time in prison, and were at length re- 
leased by a lucid decision of Judge Vaughan, having 
by writ of habeas corpus procured the hearing of 
their case in the court of Common Pleas. And thus 
ended this famous trial, which, from the firm stand 
taken by the prisoners and the jury, and two full 
statements of it appearing soon after in print, aroused 
the attention of the people of England, to the arbi- 
trary and oppressive proceedings of the courts, by 



240 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1670. 

which the benefits of the trial by jury were sought to 
be invaded, and the most flagrant violations of justice 
were practiced with impunity. 

William Penn's father, who had become recon- 
ciled to his son's change, now feeling himself draw- 
ing near to the close of life, w 7 as very desirous of the 
company of his son in his last hours ; and contrary 
to William's express desire, sent to the prison, and 
paid the fine for which he was detained. He lived 
only eleven days after the termination of the trial ; 
and before his close, addressed his son in the follow- 
ing memorable language. 

" Son William, if you and your friends keep to 
your plain way of preaching, and keep to your plain 
way of living, you will make an end of the priests, 
to the end of the world. Let nothing in the world 
tempt you to wrong your conscience ; I charge you 
do nothing against your conscience ; so you will 
keep peace at home, which will be a feast to you in 
the day of trouble ;" — a remarkable testimony from 
one who had formerly stoutly opposed the very 
course, which he now, at the verge of the grave, so 
solemnly recommended. 

The violence of those who were bent on extermi- 
nating the Society of Friends showed itself this year, 
among many other shameful acts, in the destruction 
of two meeting-houses of that people in the suburbs of 
London. And what made the deed still more to be 
regretted, was that it was sanctioned by the king and 
privy- council. 

The meeting-house at Horslydown in Southwark 
was first attacked. A party of soldiers had twice bro- 
ken in upon the peaceful assembly, met there to wait 
upon their Maker ; and having forced those present 
out of the house, had endeavoured to disperse them by 
rising among them, and had wounded several. But 
on the 20th of the month called August, a party of 
soldiers with carpenters and others, came and pulled 
the house down, carried away the benches, windows 



1670.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 241 

and boards, and sold them. The next day being First- 
day, the Friends came as usual to meeting, but had 
to meet on the rubbish of their demolished house. 
The soldiers denied them even this privilege, and 
dragged them into the street ; and the captain order- 
ing his men to knock their brains out, they pulled and 
dragged them from the place, and lodged them in 
prison without warrant from any civil magistrate. 
For nearly three months, did the soldiers continue to 
persecute the Friends who attended this meeting ; 
beating men and women in an outrageous manner 
with their muskets and pikes, and endeavouring by 
provoking their horses, to ride furiously over them. 
Friends keeping faithfully to their meeting, exasperat- 
ed them still more. One of them provided himself 
with a shovel, and threw the dirt from the gutters 
shamefully over men and women promiscuously. 
After him advanced both horse and foot soldiers in a 
furious onset, dealing about their blows, and knocking 
down all before them without regard to sex or age, to 
the shedding of the blood of many. On various occa- 
sions, twenty, thirty and fifty individuals were sorely 
wounded at one time. But at length the civil author- 
ities were aroused to the enormity of these flagrant 
breaches of the peace, and put a tardy stop to them. 

The proceedings at Ratcliff meeting-house were of 
a similar character, though not attended with so 
much personal outrage. A few days after the de- 
struction of the Horslydown meeting-house, the lieu- 
tenant of the Tower came with a party of soldiers, 
and caused the building to be demolished. Twelve 
cart loads of doors, windows and floors, with other 
materials, w r ere carried away ; and some of the mate- 
rials were sold on the spot for money and strong 
drink. Friends here also continued to meet on the 
ruins of their meeting-house, or as near thereto as the 
constables and other officers present would permit ; 
but many of them were seized, fined, and committed 
to prison. 

*21 



242 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1675. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE SEPARATION OF WILKINSON AND STORY ', AND THE 
HERESY OF JEFFERY BULLOCK. 

The Spirit of Truth by which our Friends professed 
to be guided, was abundantly able to preserve the sin- 
cere and obedient and persevering followers thereof 
from all the wiles of the enemy. But when any slack- 
ened in watchfulness, and gave no longer unremitting 
heed to its monitions, it was no marvel that they were 
suffered to become entangled in the mazes of error. 
They had practically abandoned the ground of their 
profession, though they might still pertinaciously ad- 
here to it in words ; and having therefore only them- 
selves to blame for the bitter fruits of their unfaithful- 
ness, the integrity of the principles remained unshaken, 
and the Society pursued the even tenor of its way. 

About the year 1675, a spirit of dissatisfaction 
crept into the minds of some members in the north of 
England; who giving themselves up to a headstrong 
spirit of party, opposed the wmolesome discipline 
which had been established by the body, and particu- 
larly the institution of women's meetings. John Wil- 
kinson and John Story were at the head of this dis- 
affected party, and by plausible insinuations engaged 
in their favour a considerable number of persons of 
weak minds and strong wills, who from one cause 
or another had imbibed disgust and unsettlement. 
They inveighed severely against George Fox, who 
had been a prominent instrument in establishing the 
discipline, and they endeavoured to introduce the fal- 
lacious doctrine, that inasmuch as the Divine Spirit 
was given to every man to guide him aright, any 
attempt by rules and laws to introduce order into the 
Society, was a departure from that principle, and an 
imposition on their gospel liberty. Wilkinson and 



1675.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 243 

Story had been in the station of ministers : but begin- 
ning to thirst after pre-eminence, and to look for 
greater deference from their fellow -members than the 
most sensible of their brethren thought it right to pay 
them, they became restive under the admonitions and 
warnings which these believed themselves called upon 
to extend, in gospel solicitude for their welfare, and for 
the integrity of the church. 

The Quarterly Meeting of Westmoreland, to which 
they belonged, observing with pain the dangerous ten- 
dency of their proceedings, used Christian efforts to 
reclaim them, but without success ; and in order to 
prevent if possible, an open breach, concluded to refer 
the case to the judgment of impartial and disinterested 
Friends of the neighbouring counties. Accordingly 
six of the most judicious and eminent Friends of Cum- 
berland, and several from Yorkshire, went over to a 
meeting appointed by Westmoreland Quarterly Meet- 
ing, on purpose to hear and determine the matter of 
difference. But the disaffected persons refused to 
give their attendance. The committee being desirous, 
if possible, to give them a fair and full hearing, ap- 
pointed another day, and themselves personally waited 
on the heads of the secession, to request their attend- 
ance. But their message and advice were treated 
with slight and contempt ; and seeing that these men 
were not by any means to be induced to a reconcilia- 
tion, they drew up a testimony against them, and left 
it with Friends of the Quarterly Meeting of West- 
moreland. 

Still another attempt was made the next year, to 
reclaim and recover those who had thus gone out of 
the way. A meeting was appointed at Drawell, near 
Sedburgh, on the borders of Yorkshire and Westmore- 
land, at which they were again offered a fair opportu- 
nity of being heard upon the subjects of their discon- 
tent. On this occasion, they condescended to attend, 
and were fully heard by the Friends formerly appoint- 
ed, and by many other aged and experienced Friends 



244 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1675. 

from other parts, who spent four days in the investiga- 
tion. But as it plainly appeared that the defection 
proceeded from a spirit of contention and opposition to 
all regularity and good order in the church, they were 
affectionately entreated to return to the unity of the 
body. Obstinately persisting, however, in their oppo- 
sition, they were testified against by this meeting 
also ; and soon afterwards detached themselves en- 
tirely from the Society, and set up a separate meeting. 

John Story travelled over the country, endeavouring 
to propagate the dissent in various parts of the nation, 
and gained some adherents in the western counties, 
particularly at Bristol. 

This defection drew forth from William Penn a 
small treatise on Church Discipline, designed to inform 
the judgments of the discontented ; and Robert Bar- 
clay also came forth with his well known work enti- 
tled " the Anarchy of the Ranters," &c. in which, 
with his usual clearness and strength of reasoning, he 
vindicated the discipline established among Friends, 
against those who accused them of confusion and dis- 
order on the one hand, or of tyranny and imposition 
on the other. These books elicited contentious replies 
from William Rogers, one of the prominent seceders ; 
which, however, being more remarkable for passion- 
ate intemperance of language than soundness of rea- 
soning, and abounding in personal invectives against 
many of the most eminent members of the Society, 
particularly George Fox, soon ran their ephemeral 
course and sunk into oblivion. 

William Rogers becoming puffed up by the applause 
of his party, went to London at the time of the Yearly 
Meeting, and challenged Friends to an open dispute. 
He was met accordingly, and was so completely foiled 
in all his sophistry, and his errors and petulancy were 
so fully exposed, that framing a frivolous excuse, he 
left the meeting, and departed abruptly from the city, 
refusing a second opportunity for further discussion. 

Thomas Ellwood and George Whitehead were also 






1675.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 245 

engaged in this controversy, both replying to William 
Rogers's books, and defending the principles and 
practices of the Society. The compact by which 
these separatists were bound together, was found too 
slight to maintain their union, and was soon dissolved. 
The more sincere among them coming in time to 
perceive the groundless nature of their separation, 
were united once more to the body, and the rest fell to 
pieces and dwindled away; leaving only, as their 
memorial, a solemn warning on the page of history, 
of the unsubstantial nature of all attempts, made in the 
spirit of party and of self-aggrandizement, to divide 
and scatter the church of Christ. 

About the same time that this defection of Wilkin- 
son and Story broke out in the north of England, a 
spirit of unsoundness showed itself in the east ; which, 
though confined in its sorrowful effects to one indivi- 
dual, became important as a matter of history, inas- 
much as it once more drew forth the testimony of the 
faithful members of the body, to their belief in the divi- 
nity and atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ, as a fun- 
damental and integral part of the doctrines of the Soci- 
ety of Friends. A certain Jeffery Bullock , of Sudbury, 
elated by a fond conceit of his own attainments, and 
mistaking the vagaries of a deluded imagination for 
the pure influences of the Spirit of Christ, adopted 
and promulgated the false and antichristian notion, 
that the gift of divine grace in the soul superseded the 
necessity, and cancelled the benefits, of the coming 
and sufferings in the flesh, of our blessed Lord and 
Saviour, Jesus Christ. 

Being rebuked for this and other errors, he assumed 
an air of great importance, and inveighed with much 
acrimony against the faithful elders, whose concern it 
was to administer counsel and reproof, in order to 
reclaim him from the gross delusions into which his 
self-confidence had betrayed him ; and he denounced 
the good order and government of the church, as 
tyranny, oppression, and usurpation of power ; declar- 



246 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1675. 

ing that every one should be left to the guidance of 
the Spirit in himself, with no control of outward rules. 
Becoming, notwithstanding the brotherly admonitions 
of his friends, still more refractory and overbearing, 
and going on to propagate his unsound opinions, he 
was about the year 1675, disowned by Friends, who 
issued several clear and cogent testimonies against his 
anti-christian errors. 

Irritated by this disownment, he made use of the 
press, and published a book against the Society, up- 
braiding its members with much bitterness. Giles 
Barnardiston and Isaac Penington stepped forward in 
defence of the truth, replying to his charges and false 
assertions ; vindicating the faith of the Society in our 
Lord Jesus Christ, as the Son of God, and the only 
Justifier and Saviour of the repenting sinner ; and 
showing that as those are to be blamed who despise 
the doctrine of the Light within, relying on the death 
and sufferings of Christ, without coming to an expe- 
rience of his cleansing and sanctifying operations in 
the soul, so those, on the other hand, who, pretending 
to exalt this Light, despised the loving-kindness of the 
Lord in sending his Son Jesus Christ into the world, 
to lay down his precious life a sacrifice for the sins of 
man, cannot be owned as maintaining sound doctrine ; 
for that such as speak and act under the promptings 
of that divine Light, can never disregard or deny the 
efficacy of what the Son of God did and suffered in 
the prepared body. 

This unhappy man was afterwards mercifully ena- 
bled to see the delusion into which he had fallen : and 
in 1686, he gave forth a paper of condemnation, not 
only of his gross doctrinal errors, but of his super- 
cilious and injurious treatment of Friends, and ani- 
madversions against the wholesome order and govern- 
ment of the Society. 



i, 



1677.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 247 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 



WILLIAM PENNS TRAVELS IN HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 

In the year 1677, William Perm found it laid upon 
him to visit Holland and Germany, in the service of 
the Gospel. He had been before on the continent, 
about 1671 ; but no account of that journey is now to 
be found. 

Sailing from Harwich on the 26th of the Fifth 
month, in company with George Fox, Robert Bar- 
clay, George Keith, and several other Friends, he 
landed on the 2Sth at the Briel in Holland, and soon 
proceeded to Rotterdam, where many Friends of that 
city immediately came to see them. They held two 
meetings there, and visited Friends in their families, 
and William Penn then proceeded with George Fox 
to Leyden, Haarlem and Amsterdam ; at w r hich place 
was then held the first general meeting of Friends for 
Holland, embracing also those in the Palatinate, 
Hamburg, Lubeck, Frederick stadt, &c. This meet- 
ing agreed upon several salutary minutes, to be sent 
forth among the members for their edification, and 
for the better conducting of the affairs of the church, 
which document may be considered as in some de- 
gree embodying their code of discipline. The first 
item ran thus : 

" Be it known to all men, that the power of God, 
the Gospel, is the authority of all our men's and 
women's meetings ; and every heir of that power is 
an heir of that authority, and so becometh a living 
member of right, of either of those meetings, and of 
the heavenly fellowship and order in which they 
stand : which is not of man, nor by man." 

The practice to be observed in labouring with of- 
fenders for their restoration is thus described: 



248 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1677. 

" Though the doctrine of Christ Jesus requireth his 
people to admonish a brother or sister twice, before 
they tell the church ; yet that limiteth none, so as 
they shall use no longer forbearance, before they tell 
the church ; — and it is desired of all, that before they 
publicly complain, they wait in the power of God, to 
feel if there is no more required of them to their 
brother or sister." " And further, when the church 
is told, and the party admonished by the church, 
again and again, and he or she remain still insensible 
and unreconciled ; let not final judgment go forth 
against him or her, till every one of the meeting hath 
cleared his or her conscience, that if any thing be upon 
any, further to visit such a transgressor, they may 
clear themselves, if possibly the party may be reached 
and saved. And after all are clear of the blood of 
such an one, let the judgment of Friends in the power 
of God go forth against him or her, as moved for the 
Lord's honour and glory sake : that no reproach 
may come or rest upon God's holy name, truth and 
people." 

Amongst other things which then engaged their 
attention, was the subject of marriage ; which they 
declare, " as the universal and unanimous sense of 
Friends," to be " the work of the Lord only, and not 
of priest or magistrate ; for it is God's ordinance and 
not man's." 

They also directed that committees of Friends 
should be appointed to judge of such writings as were 
designed to be published, and that " no book may be 
published but in the unity." 

William Penn bears testimony that at this meeting 
" the sound of the everlasting gospel went forth, and 
the Lord's fear, and life, and power was over all." 

Here William Penn addressed a letter to the king 
of Poland, in the name and on behalf of his fellow- 
believers of Dantzick, who had for some time been 
great sufferers for conscience-sake, some banished 
from their homes, and others closely imprisoned, for 



1677.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 249 

meeting together for the worship of their Divine Mas- 
ter. This cogent appeal, however, did not prevail to 
stop the persecution; which continued for some years, 
so that those poor people were subjected to much 
cruelty, being confined in the house of correction, 
chained together by their hands, fed only with bread 
and water, and forced to lie upon straw through the 
severe winter. 

Hence William Penn, Benjamin Furly, George 
Keith and Robert Barclay, went to Osnaburg, and 
then to Herwerden to visit the Princess Elizabeth 
Palatine of the Rhine, grand- daughter of King James I. 
and sister of the famous Prince Rupert. She and 
the Countess De Homes who lived with her, had for 
some time been acquainted with Robert Barclay and 
other friends, and were seeking after best things, 
and lovers of those who separate themselves from the 
world for righteousness-sake. This Princess came 
measurably to appreciate the truth of the principles 
held by Friends, and not only maintained an affec- 
tionate correspondence for several years with Robert 
Barclay and William Penn, but made her house an 
asylum and a meeting-place for Friends on various 
occasions. These were now very cordially received, 
and held several meetings in her house, one of which, 
at the suggestion of the Countess De Homes, was 
with the domestics of the establishment, to the great 
satisfaction of the princess : another was a public 
meeting for the family and the town's people, " which 
began," says William Penn, " with a weighty exer- 
cise and travail in prayer, that the Lord would glo- 
rify his own name that day. And by his own power 
he made way to their consciences, and sounded his 
awakening trumpet in their ears, that they might 
know that He was God, and tfyat there is none like 
unto Him. Oh! the day of the Lord livingly dawned 
upon us, and the searching life of Jesus was in the 
midst of us. The Word, that never faileth them that 
wait for it, and abide in it, opened the way and un- 

22 



250 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1677. 

sealed the book of life : yea the quickening power 
and life of Jesus wrought and reached to them ; and 
virtue from him in whom dwelleth the Godhead 
bodily, went forth, and blessedly distilled upon us his 
heavenly life." " As soon as the meeting was done," 
he adds, " the princess came to me, and took me by 
the hand, to speak to me of the sense she had of that 
power and presence of God, which was amongst us ; 
but was stopped — and turning herself to the window, 
she broke forth in an extraordinary [emotion,] cry- 
ing out, ' I cannot speak to you — my heart is full,' — 
clapping her hands upon her breast." 

In taking a solemn leave of these interesting per- 
sons, the Friends recommended to them a "holy 
silence from all will- worship, and the workings, 
strivings, and images of their own mind and spirit ; 
that Jesus might be felt by them in their hearts, and 
his holy teachings witnessed and followed in the way 
of his blessed cross, which would crucify them unto 
the world, and the world unto them ; that their faith, 
hope, and joy might stand in Christ in them, the 
heavenly Prophet, Shepherd, and Bishop." 

Leaving Herwerden, they passed through Pader- 
born, Cassel and Frankfort ; except Robert Barclay, 
who prepared to return to Amsterdam. Soon after 
they arrived at Krisheim, where they found a meet- 
ing of tender and faithful people ; and notwithstand- 
ing Friends there were desired by the chief officer 
of the place, through fear of the leading Calvinists, 
not to suffer any preaching amongst them, yet they 
had a comfortable meeting. At Manheim, William 
Penn addressed a letter to the Prince Elector Pala- 
tine of Heidelberg, encouraging him in the Christian 
virtue of charity towards those who conscientiously 
dissented from the established form of religion : they 
then went by the Rhine to Worms, and thence on 
foot to Krisheim again, where they had a good meet- 
ing, and the Lord's power was sweetly felt by 
many. This meeting had been chiefly gathered by 



1677.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 251 

William Ames and George Rofe, about twenty years 
previously. 

Passing through Mentz and Cologne, and not 
being permitted to enter the town of Mulheim, 
they came to the walls of Duysburg, at night ; but 
the gates being shut, and no houses outside the 
walls, they lay down together in a field until near 
the dawn of day, soon after which, the gates being 
opened, they entered the city. Here William Penn 
wrote a letter to the Countess of Falkenstein and 
Bruck, of whom he had some knowledge as a person 
of much religious feeling, who saw the vanity of this 
world, and in some degree the emptiness of its re- 
ligions ; but whom they had not been able to visit, 
being rudely turned away by her father, with a guard 
of soldiers. He encouraged her closely to attend to 
the divine Visiter in the soul, which had shown her 
the fading nature of all earthly glory, and the joys of 
the world to come, and had wrought in her heart the 
change which she had witnessed from the spirit of 
the world. And he recommended her to stay herself 
upon Christ Jesus, the everlasting Rock, and feel him 
a fountain in her soul — whom God had given for the 
life of the world. He wrote also at the same time to 
her father, the Graef or Earl of Bruck and Falken- 
stein, exhorting him to repentance, and remonstrat- 
ing with him on his illiberality and unchristian be- 
haviour, in turning out of his dominions at sunset, 
innocent strangers of good character in their own 
country, and thus subjecting them to exposure in the 
fields at night, in an unknown country, merely for 
being what the world called Quakers, and not giving 
him the usual empty compliment of putting off the hat. 

They were met, the same day, after a meeting 
with some serious people, by a messenger from the 
countess, telling them of her grief at the behaviour of 
her father, and advising them not to expose them- 
selves on her account, to such difficulties ; for her 
father set his dogs at some who came in the love of 



252 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1677. 

God to visit her, and at others his soldiers, to beat 
them ; adding, however, that even this ought not to 
hinder them from doing good. After some serious 
discourse with the tender young man, her messenger, 
it being now afternoon, and they having neither eaten 
nor drank any thing since the morning of the previous 
day, and having lain out in the field all night, they 
retired for some refreshment, and afterwards left the 
city, being compelled to walk eight miles to a town 
called Holten, where they lodged. 

Proceeding through Wesel to Cleve, they paid a 
visit to a certain noblewoman of religious dispo- 
sition. They told her, their message was to those 
of that city who had any hunger or thirst after the 
true and living knowledge of God. She told them 
there were some who searched after God ; but she 
feared that the name of Quaker would make them 
shy ; for they were called Quakers themselves, by 
people of the same profession, merely for being more 
serious and retired in their conversation. They re- 
plied, that it was an honour to the name, that all 
sobriety throughout Germany was called by it ; and 
that this ought to make the way easier for those who 
were Quakers indeed — to all such, God had commit- 
ted to him and his friends the word of life to preach, 
and such they sought out wherever the Lord brought 
them. This person, as well as an attorney whom she 
sent for to meet them, was reached by their testimony 
to pure spiritual religion, and they both confessed to 
the truth of what was said. " A blessed sweet time 
we had ;" says William Penn ; " for the power and 
presence of the Lord, our staff and strength, plente- 
ously appeared amongst us." 

Soon after this, at Utrecht, William Penn parted 
from his companions, and went to Amsterdam, where 
he received a letter from the Princess Elizabeth, who 
longed for greater experience of the baptism of fire 
and of the Holy Ghost, and for power to bear the 
cross of Christ. 






1677.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIEND3. , 253 

From Amsterdam he joined George Fox at Har- 
lingen, where was held at that time the first Monthly 
Meeting of Friends for Friesland, Groningen, and 
Embden, and a public meeting also for the inhabitants 
generally. There was a Presbyterian minister pre- 
sent, who sat with much attention and sobriety, but 
who, having to preach that evening, went away, 
while George Fox was speaking. However, he 
speedily returned and sat at the door till George Fox 
concluded ; when he stood up, and putting off his 
hat, with his face towards heaven, and in a solemn 
manner, exclaimed: " The Almighty, the Allwise, 
the Omnipotent great God, and his Son Jesus Christ, 
who is blessed forever and ever, confirm His word 
that hath been spoken this day ;" and apologizing for 
having to leave the meeting, withdrew. Just as the 
meeting ended, he came again, and said in the hear- 
ing of some Friends, that he had made his sermon 
much shorter than common, that he might enjoy the 
rest of the meeting. From this place William Penn 
wrote a letter of religious counsel to Joanna Eleonora 
Malane, a noble young woman of Frankfort, who had 
been sweetly visited by the ministry of life, through 
himself and his companions. He soon afterwards 
paid an interesting visit to Anna Maria Schurmans, 
a noted religious woman among the followers of John 
De Labadie, who seeking a more spiritual fellowship 
and society, had separated themselves from the com- 
mon Calvinistic churches, and were a serious, plain 
people, having approximated towards Friends as to 
silence in meetings, women's speaking, preaching by 
the Spirit, and plainness of garb and furniture. This 
woman, with some others of the same persuasion, re- 
sided in the family of the Somerdykes, daughters of a 
nobleman of the Hague. They gave William Penn a 
serious account of the work of the Almighty among 
them ; having evidently tasted of the heavenly gift, 
but appearing to place too great reliance on their be- 
loved John De Labadie. William Penn then address- 
22* 



254 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1677. 

ed them in an earnest appeal, opening the true nature 
of religious experience, and exhorting them, that 
since God had given them a divine sense of himself, 
their eye should be to him, and not to man ; that 
they might come more into true silence, and a 
growth into that heavenly sense — that the work of 
the true ministry was not to keep the attention of the 
people to the preacher, but to turn them to God, the 
new covenant teacher, and to Christ, the great gos- 
pel minister — and closely recommending to them not 
to be of those who begin in the Spirit, and end in the 
flesh; but to wait in the light and the spirit of judgment 
that had visited them, that all might be wrought out 
that was not born of God, and they might become a 
holy priesthood, offering up a living sacrifice with 
God's heavenly fire. 

Leaving this little company, with much exhortation 
to " know no man after the flesh," but to have their 
fellowship in Christ, he went to Lippenhausen and 
Groningen, at both which places were meetings of 
Friends : and thence to Embden, where Friends had 
suffered most grievous persecutions for some years. 
Here he found it laid upon him to visit the president 
of the council, at whose instigation these persecutions 
had taken place, who received him respectfully, and 
gave some expectation that the visit would not prove 
in vain. 

After this, at Bremen, he went to see two ministers 
under some suffering for their zeal against formality 
in the reformed churches ; and though one, through 
fear, reluctantly declined the visit, he had with the 
other a satisfactory open interview of about three 
hours ; testifying " that the day was come, and com- 
ing, in which the Lord would gather out of all sects 
that stand in the oldness of the letter, into His own 
holy Spirit, life, and power ; and that in this, the 
unity of faith and bond of peace should stand." 

He and Jacob Claus, his companion, visited some 
other serious individuals, and had in their inn, frequent 



1677.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 255 

opportunity to declare the way of Truth ; and leaving 
books among the people, they took their leave of 
them, and went again to Herwerden. Here they had 
much satisfaction in the company of those pious wo- 
men, the Princess Elizabeth and Countess De Homes, 
and held several meetings in the house, which appear 
to have been remarkable opportunities of divine over- 
shadowing, to the tendering of the hearts of those 
assembled. Having at length taken an affectionate 
and solemn leave of this family, they travelled by 
wagon to Wesel, about two hundred miles, riding 
three nights and days without rest; and arriving at 
Amsterdam, they had on the tenth of Eighth month, 
a " blessed public meeting, never to be forgotten." 
In this city they had a dispute with Galenus Abra- 
hams, the great father of the Socinian Menists in 
those parts, who came accompanied by several of 
his congregation, and some of their preachers, and 
affirmed in opposition to Friends, that there was no 
Christian church ministry, or apostolical commission 
now in the world. But the Lord assisted them with 
His wisdom and strength, to confound his attempts. 

From Amsterdam they went to Delft and Rotter- 
dam, where they had a large and favoured meeting 
among Friends and others ; thence to the Hague and 
Leyden, and on the 2 1 st embarked at Briel for Har- 
wich, on their return to England. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 



ACCOUNT OF ISAAC PENINGTON. 

In the year 1679 died Isaac Penington, a man 
remarkable for his sweet Christian spirit, and extra- 
ordinarily clear views of the mysteries of godliness, 
and the true character of pure and undefiled religion. 



256 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1679. 

He was born about the year 1617, and was the eldest 
son of Alderman Penington, who was twice elected 
lord mayor of London, a noted member of the Long 
Parliament, and nominated, though he never acted, as 
one of the judges for the trial of King Charles the 
First. Isaac's education was suited to his quality and 
expectations in life, having all the advantages which 
the schools and universities, and the conversation of 
some of the most considerable men of the age, could 
afford. His natural abilities enabled him to avail him- 
self of these advantages, being possessed of a quick 
apprehension, an acute mind, sound judgment and 
good general understanding. His disposition was 
remarkably mild and affable, free from pride and 
affectation ; his common conversation cheerful but 
guarded, equally divested of moroseness and levity. 
Tempering easy affability with serious gravity, he 
was pleasing in the manner, and instructive in the 
matter of his discourse. 

His father's station in public employments, and his 
rank in life, opened for him a fair prospect of worldly 
greatness, if his views had been turned that way ; 
but actuated by higher and nobler considerations, he 
was induced to relinquish the short-lived glories of 
this world, as unworthy to engage the principal atten- 
tion of man born for immortality ; and with Moses he 
" chose rather to suffer affliction with the people of 
God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season." 

"Very early," says his intimate friend, William 
Penn, who married his step-daughter Gulielma Maria 
Springett, " very early did the Lord visit him with a 
more than ordinary manifestation of his love ; and it 
had that good effect upon him, that it kept him both 
from the evils and vain worships of the world ; and he 
became the wonder of his kindred and familiars, for his 
awful life and serious and frequent retirements, declin- 
ing all company that might interrupt his meditations." 
He was frequent in reading the Holy Scriptures, and 
faithful in practising what was thereby manifested to 



1679.] THE SOCIETY OF FItlEXDS. 257 

his understanding, though in this he met with much re- 
proach and opposition. But in reading the lives of 
holy men of God, recorded in the Scriptures, he per- 
ceived in himself and in the generality of professing 
Christians, a great falling short of the power, experi- 
ence, and spiritual attainments, which the Scriptures 
testified to have been acquired in former times. So 
that the religion of that age, though very high in pro- 
fession, appeared to him for the most part but a talk, 
in comparison with what was enjoyed, possessed, and 
lived in by the primitive believers. 

Under this view, he was led to separate himself 
from the public worship he had usually frequented, 
and to join a select society of pious persons similarly 
dissatisfied with the prevailing empty professions. 
Amongst these he found a good degree of sincerity, 
and Divine help was often near them. But still there 
was wanting a greater degree of inward watchfulness, 
and retirement to the gift of Christ in the heart ; and 
they fell into a mistake, and lost ground. For whilst 
they should have pressed forward into the spirit and 
power of godliness, they ran too much outward into 
the letter and form ; in consequence whereof they 
became darkened in their minds, and confusion and 
scattering overtook them. 

Isaac being now left alone, connected with no 
visible society, and in a state of darkness and uncer- 
tainty, fell under great trouble of mind for a long 
season, secretly mourning and praying to the Lord, 
night and day. At length he met with some of the 
writings of the people called Quakers ; but he cast a 
slight eye over them and threw them aside with dis- 
dain, as falling very short of that wisdom with which 
he supposed the living faith which he was seeking 
would be attended. Some time afterwards, he had 
opportunities of conversing with some of them ; and 
although (to use his own expressions) they reached 
the life of God in him, and that life answered to their 
discourse, and engaged his affectionate regard towards 



258 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1679. 

them, yet he seemed to himself to have such an advan- 
tage over them in the power of reasoning, and supe- 
riority of understanding, that he viewed them rather 
in a contemptuous light, as a poor, weak and despica- 
ble people, w r ho had some smatterings of truth in 
them, and some honest desires towards God, but who 
were very far from the full understanding of His way 
and will. 

One of these opportunities was at Reading in 1056, 
where Alexander Parker met with him. Alexander 
thus mentions the interview : " Though at that time 
he had not the outward garb and appearance of a 
Quaker, yet did mine eye behold an inward beauty 
and hidden virtue of life in him ; and my soul in the 
love of truth, did cleave unto him, and I could have 
embraced him in the sense thereof; but in those early 
days we were cautious, and laid hands on no man 
suddenly." He did not hastily join Friends ; but for 
some time reasoned about things, without being able 
to arrive at a clear view of the Divine will, because 
he sought it not yet in that low and humble state, 
wherein the still small voice was to be discerned from 
the insinuations of the adversary of truth. 

But in the year 1658, being invited to a meeting of 
Friends at John Crook's in Bedfordshire, he went with 
a fixed disposition and desire to receive nothing as 
truth, wmich was not of God, nor withstand anything 
that was. George Fox w r as at that meeting ; who 
spoke so clearly to Isaac's state, and expounded the 
mystery of iniquity, and the gospel of peace and sal- 
vation, with such energy, that he gained his full assent 
to the truth ; and from that time forward, Isaac heart- 
ily joined in society with this people ; though for a 
season he endured great spiritual conflict, as well as 
much opposition and reproach from his father and 
other relations, and from the people and powers of the 
world. 

Being well prepared by the religious exercises 
through which he had passed, previous to his convince- 



1679.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 259 

ment, as well as after, he soon became an eminently 
serviceable member of the Society of Friends. His 
piety was manifested in his humble and reverent ado- 
ration of the Most High, and circumspect conversation 
as in His divine presence. His benevolence and 
Christian charity was displayed in the diligence with 
which he visited and administered to the afflicted in 
body or mind ; and his hospitality, in opening his 
heart and house for the reception of the messengers of 
peace, and for the religious meetings of his friends. He 
was a man of quick apprehension, and when any spark 
arose from the coals of God's altar, it soon kindled in 
him a flame of holy zeal for God and his truth. 
Through his ministry many w r ere converted to the 
truth he had received, and many more confirmed in 
it ; his preaching being with divine authority, in the 
demonstration of the Spirit and of power. In all his 
declarations, and writings too, which were numerous 
and highly edifying to the spiritual traveller, he ever 
pointed to the life — the living efficacy — of religion; 
and pressed all to mind the fomcr of godliness, and 
not to settle or content themselves in the letter or 
form. Indeed this was the very bent of his mind ; 
and the strong cries of his soul to the Lord were, that 
all might partake of this living efficacy, even the life 
of Jesus, of which he, through the death of the cross, 
had been made a partaker ; in which life he lived unto 
God, and was a striking pattern of humility, walking 
in uprightness and innocence before the Lord. He 
was weaned from the world, and redeemed from the 
earth ; his mind being exercised in things of a high- 
er nature, drinking daily of the water that Christ 
gives ; which was in him " a w T ell of water, spring- 
ing up unto eternal life." 

His conduct and conversation were a seal to his 
ministry, exhibiting the fruits of the Holy Spirit, and 
affording an excellent example of piety and virtue in 
every relation of life. He was a most affectionate 
husband, a careful and tender father, a mild and gentle 



260 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1679. 

master, a sincere and faithful friend; compassionate 
and libera] to the poor, affable and kind to all with 
whom he conversed, ready to do good to all men, and 
careful to injure none. 

Having embraced the truth from a firm persuasion 
of its inestimable value, he patiently and meekly sub- 
mitted to the sufferings which were, in that day, the 
lot of most of those who faithfully stood for the cause. 
His first imprisonment was in Aylesbury jail, in 1061 
and 1662, being taken from a meeting in his own 
house, and confined seventeen weeks, in winter, in a 
cold and very incommodious room without any chim- 
ney. From this severe treatment he contracted so 
violent a disease, that for several weeks afterwards he 
was not able to turn in his bed. 

His second imprisonment was likewise for meeting 
with his friends for divine worship, and was in the 
same jail, and for nearly the same space of time. 
His third also was in the same place, on the follow- 
ing occasion ; which afibrds an instance of the arbi- 
trary temper, and illegal assumption of power, of 
many of the magistrates of that period. A Friend of 
Amersham having died, several Friends and others of 
the neighbourhood assembled as usual to attend the 
funeral. It happened that one Ambrose Bennett, a jus- 
tice of the peace, accidentally riding through the 
town, heard of this funeral. He alighted, and stayed at 
an inn until the company came by, carrying the corpse 
to the grave in a solemn manner, becoming the occa- 
sion ; upon which he rushed out, attended by some 
constables and rude people, and with his drawn sword 
struck one of the foremost bearers of the coffin, and 
commanded them to set it down. But they, knowing 
that he had no legal authority for so arbitrary a pro- 
ceeding, as they were not engaged in any unlawful 
act, were not forward to comply with his order ; 
whereupon this justice of the peace violently pushed 
the colfin oft' their shoulders into the street, and there 
left it to the rudeness of all passengers until evening ; 



1679.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 261 

when it was forcibly taken away from the widow, 
and buried. The funeral company, on the coffin being 
thrown down, were seized or dispersed by his order, 
and ten of them, among whom was Isaac Penington, 
were committed to Aylesbury jail. Here they were 
detained until the assizes, when they were again com- 
mitted for one month, on the act of banishment. 

Isaac had scarcely enjoyed his liberty again more 
than a month, when he was once more taken out of 
his own house, in a manner still more arbitrary than 
before, by military force. A rude soldier, without 
any other warrant than his weapon, took him before 
one of the deputy lieutenants of the county ; who sent 
him with a guard of soldiers to Aylesbury jail, with 
a very unusual kind of mittimus, importing that the 
jailer should receive and keep him in safe custody, 
during the pleasure of the Earl of Bridgewater. This 
earl had causelessly imbibed a particular antipathy 
to this inoffensive man, to that degree, that although 
the plague was then raging, and had reached that 
town, and the jail was supposed to be infected, he 
could not be prevailed upon, by the intercession of a 
person of considerable rank and authority in the 
county, to permit Isaac to remove to another house 
in the town, until the jail should be free from infec- 
tion. After a time, one of the prisoners dying in the 
jail, of that disease, the jailer's wife, in her hus- 
band's absence, gave him liberty to remove into an- 
other house : and at length, by the interposition of 
the Earl of Ancram, after suffering a causeless im- 
prisonment of three quarters of a year, he was dis- 
charged. But before the end of a month, another 
party of soldiers, under the same authority as before, 
came to his house at night, seized him in his bed, 
and carried him to the same jail again ; where, with- 
out any cause, or being charged with any offence, 
he was imprisoned in rooms so damp and unhealthy 
that he was thrown into a disease in which he lay 
for several months, and his life was greatly en- 

23 



262 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1679. 

dangered. During his long confinement, he was 
never called for at the sessions, but by some illegal 
means was returned on the calendar to remain in 
prison. At length in 1668, procuring a removal by 
writ of habeas corpus to the court of King's Bench, 
when he appeared there, no cause of imprisonment 
appearing, the court released him, with plain indica- 
tions of surprise, that a man should be so long kept 
in prison for nothing. 

Last of all, he was imprisoned in 1670 at Reading; 
whither he had gone in the exercise of Christian 
charity and fraternal sympathy, to visit his friends in 
prison there. This was, in the eyes of that rigid and 
implacable magistrate, Sir William Armourer, suffi- 
cient cause for his arrest, and he was committed to 
the same prison with his friends whom he came to 
visit. Here he continued a prisoner, a year and 
three quarters, being condemned under a sentence of 
premunire, until at length he was released by the 
king's letters-patent, in 1672. 

A fellow- prisoner gives the following testimony of 
his deportment under these repeated tribulations. " I 
have had knowledge of him near tw r enty years, es- 
pecially in suffering ; for it pleased the Lord so to 
order it, that our lot fell together in prison several 
times, and I may say, it was well it was so ; for, 
being made willing by the power of God, to sufier 
with great patience, cheerfulness, contentedness, and 
true nobility of spirit, he was a good example to me 
and others. I do not remember that ever 1 saw him 
cast down, or dejected in his spirit, in the time of 
his close confinement, nor speak hardly of those that 
persecuted him. Indeed I may say, in the prison 
he was a help to the weak, being made instrumental 
in the hand of the Lord to that end. Oh, the re- 
membrance of the glory that did often overshadow 
us in the place of confinement; so that indeed, the 
prison was made by the Lord unto us as a pleasant 



1679.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 263 

palace." Many of his excellent letters were written 
during his incarcerations. 

Being thus, by divine assistance, preserved through 
all his trials, stedfast in the faith, he was well pre- 
pared for death. In the year 1679, being at Good- 
nestone Court in Kent, a farm belonging to his wife, 
(who was the widow of Sir William Springett,) he 
was there taken ill of a painful disorder. The an- 
guish of his body, however, gave no shock to the in- 
ward peace with which he was favoured. He died, 
as he had lived, in the faith that overcomes the 
world, leaving to posterity, by his life, and by his 
excellent writings, an animating example of that 
Christian purity and wisdom, which can only be at- 
tained by unremitting watchfulness, and attention to 
the inspeaking, quick, and powerful Word of divine 
Grace. 



CHAPTER XXX. 



PENNSYLVANIA GRANTED TO WILLIAM PENN PERSECUTION 

AT BRISTOL. 

We have seen by the occurrences narrated to have 
taken place in the colonies of New England, that not- 
withstanding the plea of liberty of conscience with 
which those colonies set out, they furnished a very 
imperfect kind of refuge to our Friends from the per- 
secutions rife in the old world. But the time now ap- 
proached, when their Divine Master saw fit to grant 
to his servants an asylum on the Western Continent 
under circumstances which assured to them, at least 
for many years, the peaceable enjoyment of their 
religious rights. 

William Penn had for some years been interested 



264 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1681. 

in promoting the colonization of West Jersey as a 
trustee of the estate of Edward Byllinge. His at- 
tention had thus been attracted at times across the 
great ocean, and probably a remembrance occasion- 
ally renewed of the prospect which he seems to have 
had at an early period of his life, of usefulness in the 
Western World. And now having long witnessed 
the sufferings to which his friends were subjected for 
their faithful adherence to their religious convictions, 
he became desirous of obtaining a grant of a tract of 
country in the wilderness of America, where he 
might furnish them a retreat from the malice of their 
enemies, and found a government based on the prin- 
ciples of Christianity. Accordingly, in 16S0, heap- 
plied to King Charles II. for a grant of territory, and 
power to found a colony. After considerable delibe- 
ration the request was acceded to, and a charter 
granted on the fourth of the month called March, 
1681, by which William Penn was constituted Pro- 
prietor and Governor of the new colony, named by 
the king, Pennsylvania. 

By this charter William Penn became possessed 
of very considerable political power, and, as far as 
the royal grant was competent to give him pos- 
session, of an extensive country, nearly covered with 
woods, and chiefly occupied by wandering tribes of 
Indians. These, he w T as well aware, were the real 
owners of the soil, and he early determined not to 
overlook their rights, or follow the example of those 
who had preceded him in other colonies, of robbing 
and oppressing this poor defenceless people. 

Soon after obtaining the charter, he commenced 
preparations for settling the province : he published 
such an account of the country as could then be ob- 
tained, with a copy of the charter, and a statement 
of the terms on which the lands would be sold ; and 
a large number of purchasers coming forward, he 
drew up, and presented to them certain conditions, 
which may be considered as the first step to a con- 



1681.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 265 

stitution of government. This document contained 
twenty-four articles, which were consented to and 
subscribed by the first settlers ; the first article being 
on a matter which was very near to his feelings, and 
expressed as follows : 

" Jn reverence to God, the Father of light and 
spirits, the author, as well as object, of all divine 
knowledge, faith and worship, I do, for me and 
mine, declare and establish, for the first fundamental 
of the government of this country, that every person 
that doth or shall reside therein, shall have and enjoy 
the free profession of his or her faith, and exercise of 
worship towards God, in such way and manner as 
every such person shall in conscience believe is most 
acceptable to God : and so long as every such person 
useth not this Christian liberty to licentiousness, or 
the destruction of others; that is to say, to speak 
loosely and profanely or contemptuously of God, 
Christ, the Holy Scriptures, or religion, or commit 
any moral evil or injury against others in their con- 
versation ; he or she shall be protected in the enjoy- 
ment of the aforesaid Christian liberty by the civil 
magistrate." 

He wrote also on the eighteenth of the Eighth 
month 1681, a kind letter to the Indian inhabitants of 
the country, recognizing the same Lord over all, for 
the red as for the white man, to whom we must all 
give account ; mentioning the royal grant of a tract 
of country to himself, but desiring to enjoy it with 
their love and consent ; and informing them that he 
should shortly appear among them personally, but in 
the mean time had sent commissioners to treat with 
them about the land, and a firm league of peace. 

These commissioners were enjoined, in negotiating 
with the natives for the sale of their lands, to treat 
them with all possible justice, candour and humanity. 

Having at length completed the arrangements for 
his departure, he wrote a beautiful and touching letter 
to his wife and children, exhorting them by the most 

*23 



266 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1682. 

tender entreaties of a father's love, to a godly life, and 
a cultivation of the true graces and virtues of the 
genuine Christian ; and going on board the ship " Wel- 
come" in the Sixth month, 1682, he addressed on the 
30th, from the Downs, an affectionate farewell epistle 
to his Friends in England. 

He had about one hundred fellow-passengers, chiefly 
of his own Society, but the small-pox breaking out 
among them, carried off nearly one third of the num- 
ber. Jn this trying situation, he administered to the 
sick all the comfort and assistance in his power, not 
seeking his own ease when his exertions could be of 
any use to his fellow-creatures. After a voyage of 
six weeks, they came in sight of the American shores, 
and sailing up the Delaware Bay and river, received 
the hearty congratulations of the inhabitants, and 
landed at Newcastle on the 24th of the Eighth month. 
Here he took possession of his territory, having ob- 
tained from the Duke of York, before his departure, 
the three low r er counties on the Delaware Bay to 
annex to his province ; and soon afterwards proceed- 
ed to Chester, then called Uplands, and convened an 
assembly there, consisting of an equal number of free- 
men from Pennsylvania and from these lower coun- 
ties. This assembly, though only three days in ses- 
sion, passed several important laws, the first of which 
was to insure liberty of conscience to every one who 
should " confess one Almighty God to be the Creator, 
Upholder and Ruler of the world, and profess himself 
obliged in conscience to live peaceably and justly 
under the civil governm ent." By these laws, the offi- 
cers of the government were required to be such as 
professed faith in Jesus Christ. Scandalous vices of 
every description were prohibited, and provision was 
made for training children to business, to prevent pau- 
perism. Some new views were introduced into the 
penal system, prisons being considered as places of 
reformation, and not merely of vindictive punishment. 

In a letter written from this place soon afterwards, 



1682.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 267 

he declared himself " much satisfied with his place 
and portion, yet busy enough, having much to do to 
please all ;" and comparing his allotment with what 
he had elsewhere witnessed, he exclaimed, " Oh, how 
sweet is the quiet of these parts, freed from the anxious 
and troublesome solicitations, heresies, and perplexi- 
ties of woful Europe." — * Blessed be God — my soul 
fervently breathes, that in His heavenly guiding wis- 
dom we may be kept : that we may serve him in our 
day, and lay down our heads in peace." 

It was not long before he redeemed his promise to the 
Indians, of coming among them in person ; for in the 
autumn of this year, he held his celebrated treaty with 
these people at Shackamaxon, about two miles north 
of the present site of the city of Philadelphia. It is 
much to be regretted that the records of this treaty 
have been lost, and nothing remains respecting it but 
tradition, and the deep and indelible impression which 
it made in the heart of the red man. This impression 
was one of lasting gratitude for the justice and kind- 
ness with which they had been treated by William 
Penn, and of unwavering confidence to this day in 
the sincerity and friendship of his brethren in religious 
fellowship. The immediate object of the treaty was 
probably the formation of a league of perpetual friend- 
ship and mutual confidence; the purchase of land 
having been previously effected by William Penn's 
commissioners, as far as was necessary for the early 
requirements of the colony. A celebrated writer has 
designated this treaty as the only one between the 
Indians and Christians which had not been ratified by 
an oath, and the only one that was never infringed. 
It was, too, a commencement of that system of peace- 
ful and Christian practice, by which, during a series 
of several years, whilst the colony of Pennsylvania 
was under the control of Friends, was fully exempli- 
fied that great and important truth, that war is not 
an unavoidable part of the intercourse of nations, but 
that by a firm adherence to the dictates of Christian 



268 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1682. 

principle, the occasions which call it forth may be 
entirely avoided. This was a grand experiment, and 
its success was to the honour of that great Name, 
under whose promptings it was conceived, and who 
having vouchsafed to his servants a clear sense of 
His will, granted them strength also in the time of 
need, to carry out his blessed designs. 

Before this year was concluded, William Penn pro- 
ceeded to lay out the plan for his intended metropolis, 
in a very favourable situation, then called by the 
Indians Coaquannock ; and displayed the prominent 
social feeling of his mind, in naming it the city of 
Brotherly Love. There were on William Penn's 
arrival, about four thousand inhabitants in the pro- 
vince, chiefly Dutch and Swedes ; and in little more 
than a year after the arrangements were made for the 
settlement of the province, more than two thousand 
emigrants arrived, a large portion of them being mem- 
bers of the Society of Friends. These scattering 
along the Delaware, according as their choice or 
convenience led them, the country was soon peopled, 
though thinly, from Chester to the Falls at Trenton. 
Before William Penn's arrival, a meeting of Friends 
had been held at Shackamaxon, and in 1682, a meet- 
ing was held in a frame house erected for the purpose, 
within the present limits of Philadelphia. A brick 
meeting-house, near the centre of the plot of the in- 
tended city, was built two years afterwards. The 
house on the bank of the river in Front street, called 
the Bank meeting-house, was erected in 1683; and 
the great meeting-house on High street, in 1695. 
These are all that were erected in the city during 
William Penn's lifetime. A meeting of Friends was 
held at Upland, now Chester, several years before the 
arrival of William Penn, and at that place, a meeting 
of record, probably the first in the province, was held 
as early as 1681. A meeting was also settled at 
Darby in 1682, and in the course of this year, great 
numbers of emigrants arrived from England, Ireland, 



1682.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 269 

Wales, Germany and Holland. The Welsh settled 
on both sides of the Schuylkill river ; and among the 
German emigrants were a number of Friends from 
Krisheim in the Palatinate, among whom William 
Penn had travelled in the service of the gospel in 
1677, and who formed the flourishing settlement of 
Germantown. 

During the year 1683, the legislature held a session 
in Philadelphia, the members being chosen as repre- 
sentatives by the freemen of the province. Consider- 
able progress was made in the erection of the new 
city, so that by the end of the year, one hundred 
houses had arisen from the former forest ; the land 
in the vicinity was in places cleared and brought into 
cultivation ; and the grains of Europe were beginning 
to flourish in the soil of Pennsylvania. 

After about two years residence in the country, 
having settled the colony in a thriving and prosperous 
condition, and addressed a tender and affectionate 
epistolary exhortation to the members of his own 
Society in his province, William Penn thought it best 
to return to England, and arrived there on the 12th of 
the Sixth month, 1684. 

In the year 1682, a dismal scene of persecution 
had been opened in the city of Bristol, in England. 
The meetings of Friends were grievously disturbed, 
their houses broken into, and almost all manner of 
violence and abuse committed, chiefly at the instiga- 
tion of a cruel sheriff. It is true, the meetings of 
other Protestant dissenters were then also disturbed ; 
but it seems they did not so much persist in their reli- 
gious testimony, and were accordingly not by any 
means so obnoxious to that insolent outrage, to which 
this people, from their constancy and non-resistance, 
were liable. The vilest characters were permitted 
and encouraged to commit every kind of " excess of 
riot," without regard to sex, age or condition. Nay, 
even ancient men and women were hurried to prison 



270 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1682. 

with force and blows, and the little children beaten on 
the head till they became giddy, and then taken to 
Bridewell, and terrified by the prospect of whipping, 
unless they would promise to go no more to their 
meetings. 

But the malice and threats that were used, even to 
this youthful class of sufferers, did not succeed in 
subduing their constancy ; though scarce a stone was 
left unturned, in their attempts to afflict Friends, and 
deter them from assembling to worship their Maker. 
These disturbances continued till nearly all the men 
were taken to prison. Even there, however, their 
persecutions did not cease, but were greatly increased 
by privations and ill treatment. They were so closely 
thronged, that there was barely room for them to rest 
themselves at night on the floors ; and in other res- 
pects also their health and lives were so far endan- 
gered, that four physicians of Bristol thought fit to 
give forth a certificate to that effect. 

After this, the religious meetings of Friends con- 
tinuing to be kept up chiefly by women, they also 
were seized, till at length few or none but children, 
that remained with the domestics in the houses of 
their parents, were left free. It is however very re- 
markable, that these pious children, mostly under the 
age of sixteen, now performed what their parents by 
being imprisoned, were prevented from doing. They 
met for the purpose of Divine worship, and continued 
faithful without fainting, through all the insults of a 
wicked rabble, from whom they suffered exceedingly. 
Nineteen of them w T ere carried to the House of Cor- 
rection, and kept some time there, though from their 
tender age they were not within the reach of the law. 
When threatened with whipping if they returned to 
their meeting, so great was their zeal, that, despising 
all reproach and insolence, they remained stedfast to 
their duty. This persecution lasted till the next year, 
as it did with unrelenting cruelty in many other parts 
of England ; so that more than seven hundred Friends 



1682.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 271 

were confined in gaols throughout the kingdom during 
the year ] G83. 

Some of the prisoners would have willingly worked 
in prison, to earn something for their sustenance ; but 
the gaoler, who was one of the chief instruments of 
the cruelties exercised upon them, w r ould not permit 
it. One venerable man near ninety years of age, 
was kept three nights without a bed, though others 
offered to pay for accommodations for him, if the 
gaoler would allow it. Other prisoners fell sick of 
the " spotted fever," and some of them died. Yet all 
this did not soften this hard-hearted man. At length, 
however, a heavy stroke fell upon him. He was 
taken ill, and was seized with terrible anguish of 
mind, and in his distress he desired some of those 
called Quakers to pray for him, and to forgive him 
for w 7 hat he had done. They freely answered that 
they forgave him ; but advised him to ask forgiveness 
of God. Mis anguish increased; and when the phy- 
sicians ordered him to be bled, he said, " No physic 
would benefit him ; his distemper was -another thing ; 
that no man could do him good — his day being over 
— and there was no hope of mercy for him from 
God !" Friends told him, they desired, if it was the 
will of God, he might find a " place of repentance." 
But whatever was advanced, encouraging him yet to 
try to obtain peace and mercy, he would repeat, that 
his day was over, and that he had no faith to believe. 
He remained about a month in this lamentable con- 
dition, and died without any visible signs of forgive- 
ness ; but the judgment thereof must be left to God, 
the "Judge of quick and dead." 



272 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1686. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE DEATHS OF DAVID AND ROBERT BARCLAY, AND GEORGE 
FOX. 

Among those champions of the truth whom we have 
seen to have fearlessly withstood the persecuting spirit 
of intolerance in Scotland, was David Barclay. 
The latter part of his days he passed chiefly at his 
estate of Ury, enjoying the tranquillity of a country 
life, after many years of hardship and trial, and 
favoured with that inestimable treasure, " the peace 
of God, which passeth all understanding." About the 
76th year of his age, he was attacked by a fever, 
which in about two weeks, removed him to an " in- 
heritance incorruptible, that fadeth not away." Dur- 
ing his sickness, though under much bodily suffering, 
he was preserved in a quiet, contented mind, freely 
resigned to the will of God ; and several times testi- 
fied in a lively manner, to the truth of the principles 
and practices into which he had been led, and to the 
love of God shed abroad in his heart by the Holy 
Ghost. On one occasion, being in much pain, he 
thought he was going ; but expressed his confidence, 
that he should go to the Lord, and be gathered to 
many of his brethren, who had gone before him, and 
to his dear Son David, an amiable exemplary youth, 
and acceptable minister among Friends, who had 
died at sea on his voyage to America, about a year 
before. 

On the 1 1 th of Eighth month, about two or three 
o'clock in the morning, he grew weaker ; and his son 
Robert approaching him, expressed his desire, that 
He who had loved him might be near him to the end. 
He answered, " The Lord is nigh ;" repeating — 
" You are my witnesses in the presence of God, that 
the Lord is nigh." A little after, in reference to the 



1686.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 273 

convincement of the truth which he and his family 
had experienced, he exclaimed, — " The perfect dis- 
covery of the 'Day-spring from on high!' — how great 
a blessing it hath been to me and to my family !" 
Being asked to have something to refresh him, he laid 
his hand on his breast, saying, " he had that inwardly 
which refreshed him ;" and after a little time, added 
several times, " The Truth is over all." 

After kissing his grandchildren, and desiring the 
divine blessing upon them, he spoke in a serious 
weighty manner to the father and sisters of his son 
Robert's wife; and perceiving one of them, who was 
not a Friend, weeping much, he desired that she 
might come to the Truth, and bade her not to weep 
for him, but for herself. The medical attendant 
coming near, he took him by the hand, saying, 
" Thou wilt bear me witness, that in all this exercise, 
I have not been curious to tamper nor to pamper the 
flesh." He answered, " Sir, I can bear witness, that 
you have always minded the better and more substan- 
tial part ; and rejoice to see the blessed end the Lord 
is bringing you to." David enjoined him to " bear a 
faithful and true witness ;" — " yet," added he, em- 
phatically, "it is the life of righteousness — it is the 
life of righteousness, that we bear testimony to, and 
not to an empty profession." Then he said several 
times, " Come, Lord Jesus, come, come !" And 
again, " My hope is in the Lord." He sent by his 
son Robert, a message to the carpenter : " See thou 
charge him to make no manner of superfluity upon 
my coffin." 

Several Friends from Aberdeen coming to see him, 
and one of them, his faithful fellow-labourer, Patrick 
Livingstone, having supplicated and praised the 
Father of all mercies, David held up his hands, and 
said, " Amen, amen, forever !" And afterwards, 
when they stood looking at him, he said, " How pre- 
cious is the love of God among his children, and their 
love one to another. Thereby shall all men know 

24 



274 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1690. 

that ye are Christ's disciples, if you love one another. 
— My love is with you — I leave it among you." 
About eight at night, several Friends standing around 
the bed, he, perceiving some of them weep, said, 
" Dear Friends ! all mind the inward man — heed not 
the outward: — there is One that doth regard — the 
Lord of hosts is his name !" After he heard the 
clock strike three, in the morning, he said, "Now the 
time comes." And a little afterwards he was heard 
to say, " Praises, praises, praises to the Lord ! — Let 
now thy servant depart in peace. — Unto thy hands, 
O Father ! I commit my soul, spirit, and body. — Thy 
will, O Lord ! be done in earth, as it is in heaven !" 
These sentences he spoke by short intervals ; and at 
a little after five in the morning, his spirit passed 
away, in remarkable sweetness and quietness. 

The loss sustained by Friends in Scotland, in the 
removal of this pious man, was soon followed by one 
felt through the Society at large, in the death of that 
eminent Christian advocate, his son, Robert Barclay. 
This greatly gifted man spent the last two years of 
his life in much retirement. In the year 1690, how- 
ever, he accompanied James Dickenson, of Cumber- 
land, in a religious visit to some parts of the north of 
Scotland : and returning to Ury, from a meeting at 
Aberdeen, he was immediately seized with a violent 
fever ; and in about eight or nine days, it pleased the 
Lord to take him out of this world, to a kingdom of 
eternal glory. James Dickenson was with him during 
his illness, which was a solemn season ; and while he 
sat by him, the Lord's power and presence bowed 
their hearts together, and Robert Barclay was sweet- 
ly melted in a sense of God's love. Though much 
oppressed by the disorder, an entirely resigned, peace- 
ful, and Christian frame of mind shone through all. 
With tears, he expressed the love he bore towards 
" all faithful brethren in England, who kept their 
integrity to the Truth," and added, " Remember my 
love to Friends in Cumberland, and at Swarthmore, 






1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 275 

to dear George, [meaning George Fox,] and to all 
the faithful every where;" concluding with these 
comfortable expressions : — " God is good still : and 
though I am under a great weight of sickness and 
weakness as to my body, yet my peace flows. And 
this I know, that whatever exercises may be per- 
mitted to come upon me, they shall tend to God's 
glory and my salvation ; and in that I rest." He died 
on the third of the Eighth month, 1690, in the 42nd 
year of his age. 

Robert Barclay was distinguished by strong mental 
powers, particularly by great penetration, and a sound 
and accurate judgment. His talents were much 
improved by a regular and classical education ; but 
it does not appear that his superior attainments pro- 
duced that elation of mind, which is too often their 
attendant. He was meek, humble, and ready to 
allow to others the merits they possessed. His pas- 
sions were under the most excellent government. 
Two of his Intimate friends have declared, that they 
never knew him to be angry. He had the happiness 
of early perceiving the infinite superiority of religion, 
to every other attainment ; and Divine Grace enabled 
him to dedicate his life, and all that he possessed, to 
promote the cause of piety and virtue. For the wel- 
fare of his friends he was sincerely and w T armly con- 
cerned ; and he travelled and wrote much, as well as 
suffered cheerfully, in support of that Society and 
those principles to which he had conscientiously 
attached himself. This w r as not a blind and bigoted 
attachment: his zeal was tempered with charity; 
and he loved and respected goodness, wherever he 
found it. His uncorrupted integrity and liberality of 
sentiment, his great abilities, and the suavity of his 
disposition, gave him much interest with persons of 
rank and influence ; and he employed it in a manner 
that marked the benevolence of his heart. He loved 
peace, and w T as often instrumental in producing recon- 
ciliation between contending parties. In the support 



276 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1690. 

and pursuit of what he believed to be right, he pos- 
sessed great firmness of mind; and this firm and 
resolute spirit in the prosecution of duty, was united 
with great sympathy and compassion towards persons 
in affliction and distress. They were consoled by his 
tenderness, assisted by his advice, and as occasion 
required, were relieved by his bounty. His spiritual 
discernment and religious experience, directed by that 
Divine influence which he valued above all things, 
eminently qualified him to instruct the ignorant, to 
reprove the irreligious, to strengthen the feeble-mind- 
ed, and to animate the advanced Christian to still 
greater degrees of virtue and holiness. 

In private life, he was equally amiable. His con- 
versation was cheerful, guarded, and instructive. 
He was a dutiful son, an affectionate and faithful 
husband, a tender and careful father, a kind and con- 
siderate master. Though the period of his life was 
short, he had, by the aid of Divine Grace, most wise- 
ly and happily improved it; and he lived long enough 
to manifest, in an eminent degree, the temper and 
conduct of a Christian, and the virtues and qualifica- 
tions of a true minister of the Gospel. Of his deep 
and excellent writings we have already spoken. 

Scarcely had the Society recovered from the shock 
occasioned by the early removal of this upright pillar 
from the church, when it was called upon to surren- 
der into the abodes of everlasting peace, that eminent 
servant of Christ who had been, more than any other 
man, instrumental in gathering it from the "lo! heres," 
and " lo ! theres," of the barren mountains of empty, 
though plausible profession, into the green pastures 
and fruitful fields of substance and of life. 

The latter part of the life of George Fox was 
chiefly passed in or near London. His bodily health 
had for some years been declining, in consequence of 
his many and grievous imprisonments and other suf- 
ferings and exercises of body and mind, his long tra- 
vels for the promotion of the cause of truth, and his 



1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 277 

incessant labours in defence of the Gospel, against the 
clamour and opposition of apostate brethren, and the 
unfounded imputations of open enemies to the Truth 
as it is in Jesus. 

His solicitude, however, to promote the welfare of 
the Society, remained undiminished. He wrote many 
epistles to his Friends, some of sympathy and conso- 
lation, to encourage and strengthen them in their deep 
sufferings; others of counsel, exhortation, and reproof, 
" stirring up the pure mind by way of remembrance," 
and labouring to build them up in the most holy faith. 
On the 10th day of the Eleventh month, 1690, he 
wrote an epistle to Friends in Ireland, full of con- 
solation to them under the sufferings which then 
lay heavy upon them ; and the next day being First- 
day, went to the meeting at Grace-church street, 
London : where the Lord enabled him to preach the 
truth fully and effectually, opening many deep and 
weighty things with great power and clearness. After 
which, having prayed, and the meeting being ended, 
he went to a Friend's house near the meeting-house ; 
and some Friends accompanying him, he told them, 
" he thought he felt the cold strike to his heart, as he 
came out of the meeting ;" but added, " I am glad I 
was hqfe ; now I am clear, I am fully clear." When 
those Friends had withdrawn, he reclined on a bed, 
complaining still ^f cold. And his strength sensibly 
declining, he soon took to his bed entirely; where he 
lay in much contentment and peace, and very sensible 
to the last. And as, in the whole course of his life, his 
spirit, in the universal love of God, had bent its main 
energies to the promotion of righteousness and piety 
in the earth ; so now, when the outward man was 
wasting away, his mind seemed absorbed in desires 
for the spreading of the cause of Truth. He sent for 
some Friends, and expressed to them his dying wishes 
for the wide dissemination of the writings of Friends 
in the world at large. To some who came to visit 
him, he said, " All is well ; the Seed of God reigns 
24* 



278 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1690. 

over all, and over death itself. And though I am 
weak in body, yet the power of God is over all, and 
the Seed reigns over all disorderly spirits." Thus 
lying in a heavenly frame of mind, his spirit wholly 
exercised towards the Most High, he gradually grew 
weaker, until on the Third-day of the week, the 13th 
of Eleventh month, 1690, between the hours of nine 
and ten in the evening, he sweetly fell asleep in the 
Lord, whose blessed truth he had livingly and pow- 
erfully preached in the meeting but two days before. 
He died in the 67th year of his age. 

This extraordinary man, as Thomas Ellwood testi- 
fies, " was valiant for the truth, bold in asserting it, 
patient in suffering for it, unwearied in labouring in 
it, steady in his testimony to it, immovable as a 
rock. Deep he was in divine knowledge, clear in 
opening heavenly mysteries, plain and powerful in 
preaching, fervent in prayer. He was richly endow- 
ed with heavenly wisdom, quick in discerning, sound 
in judgment, able and ready in giving, and discreet in 
keeping, counsel ; a lover of righteousness, an encou- 
rager of virtue, justice, temperance, meekness, purity, 
chastity, modesty, humility, charity, and self-denial 
in all, both by word and example. Graceful he was 
in countenance, manly in personage, grave in gesture, 
courteous in conversation, weighty in communication, 
instructive in discourse, free from affectation in speech 
or carriage. A severe reprover of hard and obstinate 
sinners; a mild and gentle admonisher of such as 
were tender, and sensible of their failings. Not apt 
to resent personal wrongs ; easy to forgive injuries ; 
but zealously earnest where the honour of God, the 
prosperity of truth, and the peace of the church, 
were concerned. Very tender, compassionate, and 
pitiful he was to all that were under any sort of 
affliction ; full of brotherly love, full of fatherly care ; 
for indeed the care of the churches of Christ was 
daily upon him, the prosperity and peace whereof he 
studiously sought." 



1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 279 

His character has been thus beautifully pourtrayed 
also by his intimate friend William Penn. 

" He was a man that God endued with a clear and 
wonderful depth; a discerner of others' spirits, and 
very much a master of his own. And though that 
side of his understanding which lay next, to the world, 
and especially the expression of it, might sound un- 
couth and unfashionable to nice ears, his matter was 
nevertheless very profound — and as abruptly and bro- 
kenly as sometimes his sentences would seem to fall 
from him, about divine things, it is well known they 
were often as texts to many fairer declarations. And 
indeed, it showed beyond all contradiction that God 
sent him, in that no art or parts had any share in the 
matter or manner of his ministry ; and that so many 
great, excellent, and necessary truths, as he came 
forth to preach to mankind, had therefore nothing of 
man's wit or wisdom to recommend them. So that 
as to man he was an original, being no man's copy. 
And his ministry and writings show that they are 
from one that was not taught of man, nor had learn- 
ed what he said by study. Nor w^ere they notional 
or speculative, but sensible and practical truths, tend- 
ing to conversion and regeneration, and the setting up 
of the kingdom of God in the hearts of men. 

" In his ministry, he much laboured to open truth 
to the people's understandings, and to bottom them on 
Christ Jesus, the Light of the world ; that by bring- 
ing them to something that was from God in them- 
selves, they might the better know and judge of Him 
and themselves. He had an extraordinary gift in 
opening the Scriptures. He would go to the marrow 
of things, and show the mind, harmony and fulfilling 
of them w T ith much plainness, and to great comfort 
and edification. The mystery of the first and second 
Adam, of the fall and restoration, of the law 7 and gos- 
pel, of shadow's and substance, of the servant's and 
son's state, and the fulfilling of the Scriptures in 
Christ, and by Christ the true Light, in all that are his, 



280 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1690. 

through the obedience of faith, were much of the sub- 
stance and drift of his testimonies. In all which he was 
witnessed to be of God ; being sensibly felt to speak 
that which he had received of Christ, and was his own 
experience, in that which never errs nor fails. But 
above all, he excelled in prayer. The inwardness 
and weight of his spirit, the reverence and solemnity 
of his address and behaviour, and the fewness and 
fulness of his words, have often struck even strangers 
with admiration, as they used to reach others with 
consolation. The most awful, living, reverent frame I 
ever felt or beheld, I must say, was his in prayer. 
And truly it was a testimony that he knew and lived 
nearer to the Lord than other men ; for they that know 
Him most, will see most reason to approach him with 
reverence and fear. 

" He was of an innocent life, no busy-body, nor 
selfseeker, neither touchy nor critical. What fell from 
him was very inoffensive, if not very edifying. So 
meek, contented, modest, easy, steady, tender, it was 
a pleasure to be in his company. He exercised no 
authority but over evil, and that every where, and in 
all; but with love, compassion, and long-suilering. 
A most merciful man, as ready to forgive, as unapt 
to take or give offence. Thousands can truly say he 
was of an excellent spirit and savour among them ; 
and because thereof, the most excellent spirits loved 
him with an unfeigned and unfading love. 

" He was an incessant labourer : for in his young- 
er time, he laboured much in the word and doctrine 
and discipline, in England, Scotland, and Ireland ; — 
and towards the conclusion of his travelling services, 
he visited the churches of Christ in America, in the 
United Provinces, and in Germany, to the convince- 
ment and consolation of many. And besides his 
labour in the ministry, he wrote much — but the care 
ne took of the affairs of the church in general, was 
very great. He was often where the records of the 
business of the church are kept, and where the letters 



1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 281 

from the many meetings of God's people over all the 
world used to come. Which letters he had read to 
him, and communicated them to the meeting weekly 
held for such services. And he would be sure to stir 
them up to answer them, especially in suffering cases ; 
showing great sympathy and compassion upon all such 
occasions, carefully looking into the respective cases, 
and endeavouring speedy relief. So that the churches 
or any of the suffering members thereof, were sure 
not to be forgotten or delayed in their desires, if he 
were there. 

" As he was unwearied, so he was undaunted in his 
services for God and his people. He was no more to 
be moved to fear than to wrath. His behaviour at 
Derby, Litchfield, Appleby, before Oliver Cromwell, 
at Launceston, Scarborough, &c. did abundantly evi- 
dence it. 

" But as in the primitive times, some rose up 
against the blessed apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
even from among those that they had turned to the 
hope of the gospel — so this man of God had his share 
of suffering from some that were convinced by him, 
who, through prejudice or mistake, ran against him, 
as one that sought dominion over conscience, because 
he pressed a ready and zealous compliance with such 
good and wholesome things as tended to an orderly 
conversation about the affairs of the church, and in 
their walking before men. That which contributed 
much to this ill work, was in some, a grudging of this 
meek man the love and esteem he had and deserved in 
the hearts of the people ; and weakness in others, that 
were taken with their groundless suggestions of impo- 
sition and blind obedience. In all these occasions, 
though there was no person the discontented struck so 
sharply at, as this good man, he bore all their weakness 
and prejudice, and returned not reflection for reflec- 
tion ; but forgave them their weak and bitter speeches, 
praying for them, that they might have a sense of their 
hurt, and see the subtilty of the enemy to rend and 



282 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1690. 

divide, and return into their first love that thought 
no ill. 

" And truly, I thought God had visibly clothed him 
with a divine preference and authority ; and indeed 
his very presence expressed a religious majesty ; yet 
he never abused it, but held his place in the church 
of God with great meekness, and a most engaging 
humility and moderation. For upon all occasions, 
like his blessed Master, he was a servant to all ; hold- 
ing and exercising his eldership in the invisible power 
that had gathered them, with reverence to the Head 
and care over the body ; and was received, only in 
that spirit and power of Christ, as the first and chief 
elder in this age : who, as he was therefore worthy of 
double honour, so for the same reason it was given by 
the faithful of this day, because his authority was in- 
ward and not outward, and that he got it and kept it 
by the love of God, and power of an endless life. I 
write my knowledge, and not report, and my witness 
is true ; having been with him for weeks and months 
together on divers occasions, and those of the nearest 
and most exercising nature ; and that by night and 
by day, by sea and by land ; in this and in foreign 
countries : and I can say, I never saw him out of his 
place, or not a match for every service or occasion. 
For in all things he acquitted himself like a man, yea, 
a strong man, a new and heavenly-minded man, a 
divine and a naturalist, and all of God Almighty's 
making. I have been surprised at his questions and 
answers in natural things : that whilst he was igno- 
rant of useless and sophistical science, he had in him 
the grounds of useful and commendable knowledge, 
and cherished it every where : civil beyond all forms 
of breeding, in his behaviour ; very temperate, eating 
little, and sleeping less, though a bulky person. 

" Thus he lived and sojourned among us. And as 
he lived, so he died ; feeling the same eternal power 
that had raised and preserved him, in his last mo- 
ments. So full of assurance was he, that he triumph- 






1688-90.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 283 

ed over death ; and so even in his spirit to the last, 
as if death were hardly worth notice, or a mention. 
He had the comfort of a short illness, and the blessing 
of a clear sense to the last : and we may truly say, 
with a man of God of old, that being dead, he yet 
speaketh ; and though now absent in body, he is pre- 
sent in spirit : neither time nor place being able to in- 
terrupt the communion of saints, or dissolve the fel- 
lowship of the spirits of the just." 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE PERSECUTION OF FRIENDS DURING THE CIVIL WARS IN 
IRELAND, IN THE REIGN OF JAMES II. 

In the year 16S5, that faithful apostle of Ireland, 
William Edmundson, had seen with the eye of faith 
that a time of great exercise and trials to Friends 
was approaching, when the carcases of men would 
even be spread as dung upon the earth. And being 
under a weighty sense of the need there was for a 
fleeing unto " the Strong •Hold " for safety and pre- 
servation, he faithfully and plainly warned Friends 
and others in many public meetings, and often ad- 
vised them to lessen their concerns in the world, so 
as to be ready to receive the Lord in his judgments 
which were at hand. These troubles came in a few 
short years thickly upon that distressed island, in all 
the horrors of civil war. 

The Earl of Tyrconnel, then lord deputy of Ire- 
land, disarmed most of the English, and armed the 
native Irish, who were chiefly Papists; so that the 
Protestants were struck with fear, and many left 
their habitations and property, and fled for England ; 
while others took refuge in garrisons from the vio- 
lence which threatened the whole country. Friends, 



284 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1688. 

of course felt restrained from thus trusting to the arm 
of flesh, and remained at their homes. An open war 
soon broke out, and abundance of the Irish who were 
not of the army, but went in bands, called Raparees, 
plundered and spoiled many of the English inhabi- 
tants and Protestants, who had remained in their 
dwellings. Many of the army also, being counten- 
anced by some of their officers, became very abusive 
and violent. 

A party of Sir Maurice Eustace's troop coming 
into the neighbourhood of Mount Melick, went to 
William Edmundson's house, and seizing him by the 
hair of his head, dragged him about the yard among 
their horses' feet, without any further provocation 
than the fact of his not being a Papist. Some of 
them with clubs, and others with pistols, swore they 
would kill him ; which being heard by his wife, she 
came out to them in great alarm, and desired them 
to take all their property and save the life of her hus- 
band. 

They then left William and turned after his wife, 
swearing and calling bad names ; shot several times 
at his mastiff dog which was kept chained, and then 
rode off like madmen, abusing and beating all the 
English they met with, <and almost killing some. 
The poor Protestants became much alarmed, and 
many began to hide themselves in the woods and 
bogs, apprehending a general massacre. 

At the earnest request of some of the principal in- 
habitants of the town, William Edmundson, with 
tw r o others, proceeded at the risk of his life, to Dub- 
lin, to lay before the men in power a statement of 
the outrages which had been committed against the 
inhabitants. Through the friendship of Lord Chief 
Justice Nugent, he was admitted into the presence of 
Tyrconnel, but was only permitted to speak of his 
own wrongs ; they would not listen to anything else ,* 
and it plainly appeared that, their object was to 
frighten all the Protestants out of the country, and 






1688.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 285 

take possession of their property and of all power in 
the island. He afterwards went to several of the 
officers of the army, expostulating with them on the 
violence of the troopers ; and was so indefatigable in 
his representations, that Tyrconnel was compelled by 
the attention publicly excited to the matter, reluct- 
antly to give them a hearing; and on examination, 
the parties concerned being fully identified, were 
disarmed and sent to jail. 

Soon after his return home, these troopers had 
leave from the jailer and sheriff to come to Mount 
Melick; and one of them went to William's house, 
to solicit his forgiveness, saying they w T ould make 
what satisfaction he pleased. Accordingly going to 
the town, he expressed to the soldiers his forgiveness, 
and a hope that what had occurred would be a warn- 
ing to them for the future, desiring them to make 
satisfaction to others whom they had similarly 
abused. They begged him to write to Lord Nugent, 
requesting their pardon, which he did, succeeded in 
his solicitation, and gained their gratitude in place of 
hatred. 

This year the trouble daily increased ; most of the 
leading men among the Protestants were gone, and 
those who staid were afraid of appealing to the 
government for the preservation of the country. 
Anarchy and destruction stalked abroad, and seem- 
ed to threaten the total ruin of the sober inhabitants ; 
in a sense of which William Edmundson, who was 
well known to several of the chief men of the nation, 
again felt himself religiously called upon to use his 
influence with the rulers in behalf of the suffering 
Protestants, and in particular for those of his own 
Society. He was often accordingly in Dublin, plead- 
ing for the oppressed, and using what interest he had 
among them for the public good. The Irish army 
being now about to proceed against the Protestants 
in arms in the north of Ireland, he with some other 
Friends in that city earnestly solicited the principal 

25 



286 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1689. 

officers to spare the members of the Society of 
Friends, and treat them kindly, as they had not taken 
up arms; which they promised to do, and afterwards 
fulfilled their engagement. 

The next year (1689) these calamities still in- 
creased. The raparees on one hand, plundered and 
spoiled many of the English ; and on the other hand, 
the army marching and quartering took what they 
pleased from the inhabitants, and compelled the 
families where they came to set before them what- 
ever they had, and wait upon them as servants ; so 
that many seemed likely to be deprived of sustenance 
for themselves and families. King James coming 
into Ireland, William Edmund son several times went 
to see him, and laid before him the calamities to 
which the Protestants were subjected. The king 
heard him attentively, but had it not in his power at 
that time to restrain the disorders. Wickedness was 
let loose through the country; and violence and 
cruelty had so much prevailed that most of Wil- 
liam's Protestant neighbours had been forced from 
their homes. Several families took refuge in this 
Friend's house, until every room was full. Most 
of the cattle also that were left to them they brought 
to his land, thinking themselves and their property 
safer there than elsewhere ; and his house being thus 
crowded with refugees, their situation brought great 
concern upon him, as they were in continual danger 
of losing not only their property, but also their lives, 
at the hands of exasperated bands of ruffians and 
bigots. 

At the battle of the Boyne, the Irish army being 
beaten, many of them fled in the direction of Mount 
Melick, plundering wherever they came. They 
plundered William Edmundson's house several times 
over; and so violent were they, that the family were 
compelled to go out of the way. William's wife, 
preferring to venture her own life to save that of her 
husband, desired him to secrete himself, lest he should 



1690.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 287 

be killed ; but he could not do it, trusting in the 
Lord's protecting arm ; whose secret hand restrained 
these murderers, and preserved the lives of his con- 
fiding servants. All his horses were taken away, 
and whatever else they could find that suited their 
rapacious wills. 

The next year (1690) notwithstanding a procla- 
mation from King William, (who had supplanted 
James II.) that such of the Irish as would remain 
quietly at home should not be molested, the same 
disorders continued. The Protestants who remained 
in the neighbourhood of William Edmundson's resi- 
dence, fled into the parish worship-house at Rossen- 
allis for safety ; but after a while the British army 
gaining the ascendancy, a party of three hundred 
Protestant soldiers came and drove away about five 
hundred head of cattle and horses, taking also many 
prisoners. William Edmundson hearing that one of 
the prisoners was about to be hung, on empty sus- 
picion of his being a raparee, he took horse and 
rode swiftly after the soldiers, to endeavour to pre- 
vail on them to relinquish their purpose. After 
riding four miles, followed by many of his Irish 
neighbours in expectation of getting their cattle and 
people released, he came up with the soldiers ; and 
the two captains perceiving who it was, made a 
halt and met him. He reasoned with them, and re- 
minded them of the king's proclamation, and at 
length persuaded them to promise a release, if the 
soldiers could be prevailed on. He then rode with 
the captains to the head of the party ; but they were 
very angry, and seemed ready to kill the Irish who 
followed for their cattle. Whereupon he quitted his 
horse, and ventured with his life in his hand among 
the rude soldiers, to save these poor people, and at 
length, with much ado, and the captain's assistance, 
he prevailed with them to release the greatest part 
of the booty. He then remounted his horse, and 
sought out the man w r hom they had stripped for 



288 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1690. 

hanging. Having found him, he threw him his 
riding coat to wrap around his almost naked body, 
and then hunting out the person who had possession 
of his clothing, he reasoned with the men and offi- 
cers on the unmanly action of stripping a man thus, 
telling them he had been a soldier himself, and 
would have scorned so base an act. By much per- 
suasion he at length prevailed, so that the soldier 
had to put off the man's clothes and restore them to 
him ; and this poor man and some others of the pri- 
soners were released, with all their cattle. 

On several occasions, when the English soldiers 
took away the cattle of the Irish, William Edmund- 
son persuaded them to restore them, or bought them 
off for a small sum of his own money, to give them 
back to the owners ; and he let them pasture their 
horses on his own land, to save them from the plun- 
derers. 

Towards the latter part of this year, the English 
army having gone into winter quarters, the Irish were 
more at liberty, and the raparees increased. They 
burned many excellent houses, and some towns, and 
killed several of the Protestants ; but through the 
wonderful mercies of God, Friends were enabled to 
hold their meetings regularly, though many times in 
danger of their lives in travelling to and from them. 
Not more than four Friends were known to have lost 
their lives by violence during all this wide-spread 
calamity. 

In the Ninth month (old style) William Edmundson 
attended as usual the Half-year's National Meeting 
at Dublin, where a spirit of thankful rejoicing pre- 
vailed among Friends, in having been preserved 
through so many dangers to meet each other once 
more. During the meeting, tidings were brought to 
William Edmundson, that the raparees had taken 
about twenty of his cows, but that none of his family 
were hurt. When the service of that meeting was 
over, he returned home, and found his wife and family 



1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 289 

well; but spoil and cruelty increased, and imminent 
dangers seemed to hover over them. Yet he dared 
not to remove, considering that his example was much 
looked at, and that his removal would discourage not 
only Friends, but the English neighbours around, who 
thought they were safer for his remaining in his place. 
And he also believed that one hair of Ins head should 
not fall without God's providence. 

On the 23d of the month, he went to Colonel Biarly, 
then governor of Mount Melick, and told him of the 
danger to which they were exposed, expecting every 
night to have his house burnt down ; but this man took 
little notice of it ; and that same night, while William 
and his family were asleep, some hundreds of rapa- 
rees beset his house, firing several shots in at the win- 
dows. The noise was heard at Mount Melick, two 
miles distant, and several went to the governor to re- 
quest a party of men to render him succour ; yet. he not 
only refused to grant it, but when a certain lieutenant 
voluntarily offered to relieve him or lose his own life, he 
even threatened to hang any man that would leave the 
garrison. So the raparees set fire to his house, Wil- 
liam Edmundson remaining in it until much of it was 
destroyed. When the fire would not permit them to 
stay longer, he made conditions with these lawless 
people, and opening the doors, went out. But they 
soon broke their engagements, though bound by many 
oaths, and took what plunder they could get from the 
fire, which however had destroyed the greatest part. 
One mare was burnt to death in the stable, and two 
more were rescued from the flames, exceedingly 
scorched. All his cattle they took as booty, leaving 
not a single one. They took away his wife's upper 
garment, and so left her ; but William and his two 
sons they took prisoners, bare-legged and bare-headed, 
and not much better than naked. One of them lent 
him however, at his request, an old blanket of his 
own, to wrap about him, the weather being cold ; and 
that night they dragged him and his sons through 
25* 



290 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1690. 

rough places, bushes, mire and water to the knees, 
whereby their bare feet and legs were sorely hurt and 
bruised with the bushes, gravel and stones. The next 
morning they took them into the woods, and holding 
a consultation over them, concluded to shoot William, 
and to hang his two sons. He expostulated with 
them on the injustice of their conduct, appealing to 
many that knew him and his family, challenging them 
all to prove that either he or his sons had wronged 
any of their country-people in the smallest matter 
during all these troubles, and on the contrary remind- 
ing them that he had done what he could to protect 
them, sometimes with the hazard of his life, among the 
English soldiers. Several of them acknowledging 
that they knew he was an honest man, he told them 
that if he died they were his witnesses that he was 
innocent, and God would avenge his blood. They 
proceeded, nevertheless, in their murderous prepara- 
tions, blindfolding his sons to hang them ; and having 
prepared two fire-locks to shoot William, they came 
to blindfold him also. But he calmly told them they 
need not do that, for he could look them in the face, 
and v/as not afraid to die. 

At this juncture there came up one Lieutenant Rich- 
ard Dunn, whose father William Edmundson had got 
released, together with his cattle, from the English sol- 
diers, and whose brother was the man whom William 
had so remarkably saved from death and got released 
when he was stripped to be hanged. This Lieutenant 
Dunn, expecting to obtain preferment, determined to 
carry the prisoners to Athlone, which was twenty 
miles distant ; and so the Almighty defeated their 
intention of taking the lives of these innocent men. 
Dunn taking possession of them, kept them three 
nights at a cabin on the way, cold and without food, 
so that even their persecutors wondered how they 
endured it. William told them, that they had taken 
or destroyed his provisions, and the Lord had fitted 
him for the privation by taking away his appetite. 



1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 291 

As they went through Raghan, there came out of a 
cabin an ancient Irishman, who looked on William 
with a sorrowful countenance. William asked him 
if he could give him a piece of bread, knowing his 
sons were very hungry. The man replied that he 
would give him some bread, if he had to buy it with 
gold, for he did not believe William was one that was 
accustomed to beg his bread. So he went into the 
cabin, and brought a piece of extremely coarse bread, 
expressing regret that he had nothing else to offer 
him ; on which William telling him that it was very 
acceptable, gave it to his sons. That night they got 
straw to lodge on, and consequently rested well ; 
and the next day they came to Athlone. On their 
entrance into the main street of the town, they were 
saluted by a mob, encouraged by the high sheriff of 
the county, with the epithets of traitors, rebels, &c. ; 
and scarcely escaped injury. They were taken to 
the main guard, and afterwards to the castle, before 
the governor and chief officers. William Edmund- 
son coming in, wrapped in the old blanket, the gover- 
nor asked him where he lived, and what was his 
name ; to which replying that he was old William 
Edmundson, the governor stood up, and with tears in 
his eyes said he was sorry to see him there in that 
condition, for he knew him well, having been some- 
times at his house ; and the lieutenant who brought 
them there accusing them of things which he could 
not prove, the governor placed William and his fellow 
prisoners in charge of another officer, and sent them 
some refreshment. But having nothing to lie upon 
but the bare floor, without even straw to cover it 
with, and the weather being very severe, and they 
very destitute of clothing, William would probably 
have fallen a sacrifice to the hardships he endured, 
but for the succour providentially afforded by that 
Divine Hand who never yet forgot the wrestling seed 
of Jacob in their time of need. 

A Friend named John Clibborn, residing about six 



292 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1690. 

miles from the town, who had himself been so sorely 
plundered that he had but little clothing left, hearing 
of William's confinement, was moved to visit him. 
When he saw this venerable man in that distressed 
condition, he wrung his hands with sympathetic emo- 
tion, crying out that they had taken prisoner as 
honest a man as trod on the earth. The next day he 
brought them some food ; but still they could get no 
straw to lie upon ; and William w^as much spent, and 
so grieved with the profanity of this wicked crew, 
that he desired rather to die quietly in a dungeon, 
than to continue among them. John Clibborn wrote 
to the governor to desire that he would either bring 
William to a fair trial, or suffer him to be removed 
into the dungeon. The governor, however, still express- 
ed his sorrow, that so honest a man as he believed 
him to be, should be so oppressed ; but he dared not 
release him, for there were many eyes over him, and 
yet he could not find in his heart to commit him to 
the dungeon. But John Clibborn persevering in his 
efforts for the relief of his friend, offered to be an- 
swerable by all that he possessed, for William's appear- 
ance, if he might be allowed tc take him with him to 
his house ; to which at length the governor assenting, 
the prisoners gladly changed their quarters for the 
house of their friend. 

Jn the beginning of the Twelfth, or as it was then 
called the Tenth month, William Edmundson's wife 
ventured to the ruins of their late abode, with a 
number of horses, and some English neighbours, 
in order to bring off a stock of hides and leather 
from the tan-yard, w r hich had escaped destruction 
when the house was burnt. Whilst they were load- 
ing the leather, they were attacked by a party of 
raparees, w r ho carried off the property and compelled 
them to run for their lives. But William's wife being 
ancient, and not able to escape, they overtook her, 
and stripping her entirely of clothing, left her in that 
cold time of the year under the necessity of going two 



1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 293 

miles naked ; from which exposure she was taken ill, 
and never recovering her health, died in a few months 
afterwards. These raparees threatened to burn the 
town of Mount Melick, but the next day they were 
attacked by the English soldiers, their two leaders 
were killed, and their wicked project was frustrated. 
During William Edmundson's stay at John Clib- 
born's, many of the Irish came daily to get what they 
could ; and a Colonel Bourk also came with about 
three hundred men, to intercept the English. This 
man showed kindness to William, and soon going to 
Athlone, procured his discharge from the governor. 
But there were still those abroad who had evil de- 
signs against this upright man, and who scrupled not 
the most wicked means to put them in execution. 
Soon after his return to Mount Melick, he narrowly 
escaped an ambush, laid for the purpose of taking 
his life. Eight or nine raparees secreted themselves 
about the road from that place to Rossenallis, near 
which place were the ruins of his former habitation, 
and procured some to endeavour to persuade him to 
go to Rossenallis, under various pretexts. He was 
however restrained by an unseen hand, from yielding 
to their importunities ; and the next morning, three 
other persons passing by the place of ambush, were 
shot at, one of them being killed on the spot, and the 
others dragged into the woods and barbarously mur- 
dered. Thus the Lord preserved his servant out of 
the hands of cruel and blood-thirsty men. The Irish 
Papists, that night, generally joined the rapparees ; as 
indeed it would appear that from the first they had 
been, the instigators of the insurrection. The English 
troops however began now gradually to suppress 
them, and the roads became safer for travellers. 
William Edmundson went into the north with some 
other Friends, on a religious visit to their fellow- 
members in that section ; and during his journey, he 
observed where the hostile armies had been engaged 
in the work of mutual destruction, that many bones 



294 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1690. 

appeared on the ground, and tufts of rank grass had 
grown from the carcases of men, as if it had been 
from heaps of manure; so that he was led to remind 
Friends of what he had some years before publicly 
and prophetically declared, " that the Lord would 
spread the carcases of men as dung upon the face of 
the earth :" which was now literally fulfilled. 

The above mentioned John Clibborn was one who, 
though at one time strongly prejudiced against the 
Society of Friends, had joined this despised people, 
from a settled conviction of duty, and became a ser- 
viceable member thereof. He was born in the county 
of Durham, England, in 1623, and when about twen- 
ty-six years of as;e, went into Ireland as a soldier 
in the army of Oliver Cromwell. Here he married, 
and settled at Moate-a-Grenoge. The people called 
Quakers established a meeting on part of his property. 
He was much displeased at this ; and looking on 
them, in the pride and ignorance of his heart, with 
aversion and contempt, he determined to burn down 
their meeting-house, and thus to clear them from his 
premises. Accordingly, he provided himself with 
fire, and went thither at a time when he supposed 
there would be no one in the meeting-house : but to 
his surprise, he found the Friends assembled in solemn 
worship, and one of them, named Thomas Loe, was 
preaching. Being suddenly impressed with new and 
strange emotions, he put away the fire, went in, sat 
down behind the door, and was sensibly touched by 
the solemn covering over the assembly, and the 
power which accompanied the words spoken. On 
his return home, his wife asking him if he had burned 
the Quakers' meeting-house, he told her, " No ;" and 
even proposed her accompanying him thither the 
next First-day. They both accordingly went, and 
Thomas Loe again preached. John Clibborn, and 
his wife, both received the truth of his doctrine into 
their hearts, and eventually became members of that 
Society which had been the object of such displeasure 



1690.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 295 

and dislike. This was about the year 1658. John, 
some time afterwards, attended a General Meeting 
in the above mentioned meeting-house ; and perceiv- 
ing it inconveniently crowded, promised Friends that 
they should have a larger house the next time ; and 
accordingly built a meeting-house at his own expense, 
which, with a burial-place adjoining, he bequeathed to 
Friends forever. 

John Clibborn's situation in the time of the civil 
wars was peculiarly perilous; being, as we have 
seen, only a few miles from Athlone, where the Irish 
army had established one of their principal garrisons, 
whence they issued in parties to distress and plunder 
the country. John and his friends continued at great 
hazard, to keep up the religious meetings at his house; 
and here he remained for some time, affording suc- 
cour and hospitable assistance to many in distress, 
and endued with the patience and courage of the 
Christian. But at length his own day of suffering 
arrived. His house was beset in the night by a party 
of violent men, who dragged him by the hair of his 
head from that home which had so often afforded an 
asylum to the distressed, but which was now devoted 
to plunder and the flames. His life was attempted 
three times, by those blood-thirsty men, who at length, 
desperate in their wickedness, laid his head on a 
block, and raising the hatchet, prepared to strike the 
fatal blow. He requested a little time. His request 
was granted. The pious man kneeled down, and in 
the words of the martyr Stephen, prayed- that this sin 
might not be laid to their charge. With the prospect 
of a better world before him, he prayed not for his 
own life. Just then another party arrived, and in- 
quiring, " Who have you got there t ' were answered, 
" Clibborn." — " Clibborn !" re-echoed they, " a hair 
of his head shall not be touched !" Fie was then set 
at liberty, and having been stripped almost naked, he 
wrapped a blanket about him, and presenting himself 
before the commanding officer at Athlone, informed 



296 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1691. 

him of the treatment he had met with. The officer 
desired John to point out the men who had committed 
this outrage, " and they should be hanged before his 
hall-hoor." But this the benevolent sufferer refused 
to do ; declaring that, owing them no ill-will, he de- 
sired not to do them the smallest injury; and that all 
he wanted was, that his neighbours and himself 
might be allowed to live unmolested. 

Many other instances of unprovoked and patient 
suffering occurred during this calamitous period ; but 
those which we have detailed, may" be sufficient to 
show the fidelity with which Friends adhered to their 
principles, and the divine protection which rewarded 
their faithfulness. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 



ACCOUNT OF THOMAS STORY S CONVINCEMENT. 

In the year 1691, Thomas Story, a native of Cum- 
berland, -joined the Society of Friends, from immedi- 
ate conviction of the truth of their principles, and not 
from the outward ministry of any instruments. He 
had had the advantage of a liberal education, as his 
father had designed him for the practice of the law. 
Having an early inclination to solitude and religious 
thoughtfulness, he delighted in reading the Holy Scrip- 
tures, and spent many hours in their perusal. He 
was, however, in accordance with the usual routine 
of a genteel education in that day, set to learn fenc- 
ing and music ; by which he found his mind drawn 
away from serious considerations, and habits and 
associations contracted, which were unfavourable to 
religion. 



1691.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 297 

He was next placed with a counsellor in the coun- 
try, to commence his studies of law, preparatory to 
entering one of the inns of court ; and being situated 
in a sober and religious family, of the most moderate 
sort of Presbyterians, he had again the advantage of 
solitude, and little exposure to company ; so that he 
recovered in some degree his former seriousness. 
And though he indulged himself at times in some 
youthful airs, yet through divine grace he was pre- 
served from gross evils, and his agreeable manners 
gained him respect with all the family. 

He had been educated among the Episcopalians ; 
but his mind being intent on investigating truth, 
he was enabled to perceive that some of their prac- 
tices were relics of superstition, and in no way con- 
ducive to the advancement of pure religion. For 
when the family moved from the country into Car- 
lisle, and he had frequent opportunity of attending the 
public worship, especially in the cathedral, the con- 
gregation turning their faces towards the east at the 
repetition of the apostles' creed, and at the mention of 
the word Jesus bowing and kneeling toward the altar- 
table, surmounted as it was with the letters I.H.S.* 
painted on the wall ; these forms gave him uneasiness, 
as they appeared to him to be relics of Popery ; and 
although he continued to go thither for a while, yet 
he could not comply with several of the ceremonies 
in use. Afterwards, being invited to the christening 
(as it was called) of a relation's child, his mind was 
renewedly offended at the ceremony of baptizing 
the infant with water, as he apprehended that we 
have neither precept nor example in Scripture for that 
practice, and saw the impropriety of placing any 
reliance thereon, as producing regeneration. 

Being attentive to the reproofs of instruction felt 
in the secret of his soul, he experienced them to be a 



* The initials of the words, "Jesus Homimim Saloator" Jesus, the 
Saviour of Men. 

26 



298 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1691. 

law condemning those thoughts, expressions, passions 
and affections, which belong to the first nature, and 
are rooted in the carnal mind, The spiritual war- 
fare was begun, which was to bring into captivity 
every thought to the obedience of Christ ; and in 
which the spirit of judgment and of burning w r as to 
pass upon the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and 
the pride of life. The elegant airs of a well-bred 
youth, his strength, activity, and comliness of person ; 
his mental endowments, and competent acquisition of 
literary knowledge ; and even the glory, preferments, 
and friendships of the world, which were beginning 
to fawn upon him, w 7 ere all to be given up, and thrown 
as it were, " to the moles and to the bats," that the 
Lord alone might be exalted in his renewed and quick- 
ened soul. And as he followed on to know^ the Lord, 
he was favoured from time to time with deeper and 
clearer manifestations of the purity of true religion. 
To his spiritual eye it was discovered, that the Son of 
God was not yet effectually revealed in him, nor "the 
old man" sufficiently crucified and slain by the power 
of the cross. This sense increased his inward inquiry 
after essential truth, and his attention to the mon- 
itor in his own breast for instruction ; as he did not 
know of any in all the world to teach him, or that the 
Lord had any people then on earth, owned by His 
presence with them, as his flock and family. 

After a season of deep humiliation, being strength- 
ened to resign himself to the divine will, the Sun of 
righteousness arose in his soul with healing and re- 
storing virtue ; whereby the carnal mind, with all 
that belonged to it, self-love, pride, evil thoughts and 
desires, with the whole corruption of the first nature, 
wrere wounded and slain ; and his mind became like 
that of a little child, serene and free from anxiety. 
A great alteration was perceived in him ; but the 
cause was unknown to his friends. He put off his 
usual airs, his jovial conduct and address ; laid aside 
his sword, which at that time it was the fashion to 



1691.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 299 

wear; burnt his musical instruments ; and divesting 
himself of the superfluous part of his apparel, con- 
fined himself to what was decent, plain, and useful. 
He declined the public worship, though not with any 
design to join any other society ; for he knew not but 
that these inward manifestations were peculiar to 
himself, and was not acquainted with any people with 
whom he could unite. At one time indeed, beginning 
to fear lest it might be his own fault, that he did not 
enjoy the Lord's presence among the people with 
whom he had been accustomed to worship, he deter- 
mined once more to make the trial ; and accordingly 
he went to one of the Episcopal meeting-houses in 
Carlisle, and endeavoured to retire mentally, and feel 
after the divine presence. But he found himself so 
enveloped in darkness and distress, that it was only 
from regard to decency, that he could prevail with 
himself to remain till the worship was ended. He 
returned to his chamber in trouble, and went no more 
among them. Although, however, he now declined 
all merely outward worship, determining to follow 
the Lord whithersoever He might see good to lead 
him ; yet he found his mind clothed with universal 
charity and benevolence to all mankind. 

Continuing to seek after God in silence and soli- 
tude, he advanced in religious experience, and his 
peace and consolation increased. At a certain time, 
to his surprise, the people called Quakers were 
suddenly brought before his mind during his solitary 
meditations, in so impressive a manner, as to induce 
a secret inclination to inquire after them, their princi- 
ples, and their manner of worship. 

In the Fifth month of this year, 1691, an opportu- 
nity presented. Meeting with a member of this So- 
ciety, he perceived, on inquiry, no material difference 
between their sentiments and his own ; and being 
invited by the Friend to accompany him the next day 
to their meeting at Broughton, he willingly complied. 
The meeting was fully gathered when they arrived ; 



300 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1691. 

and he sat down among the crowd of people, in 
inward retirement, Though one of their ministers 
began to speak, yet his attention was particularly 
turned to what passed in his own mind, desiring to 
understand whether the Most High owned them with 
his presence in their religious assemblies ; and he 
soon received a convincing evidence of what he de- 
desired to know. For not long after he sat down 
among them, the same divine power with which he 
had of late been favoured in his private meditations, 
overshadowed his mind with abundant consolation. 
And as he had been distressed with the prevailing 
formality of religious professors, who generally con- 
tented themselves in that kind of religion which was 
merely the effect of education or tradition ; he now 
perceived on the other hand, and was convinced be- 
yond a doubt, that the divine presence and holy influ- 
ence of Truth attended the greater part of that meet- 
ing, and that under the shadow of the wing of divine 
power and love they sat with great delight. He was 
thus enabled to rejoice with them, in the view of 
reformation so far advanced in the earth : though not 
long before this, he had thought there was scarcely 
any true and living faith, or knowledge of God in 
the world. 

From this time he continued to attend their meet- 
ings ; and becoming more intimately acquainted with 
them, he felt the bonds of near unity with them 
strengthened, and was not ashamed openly to ac- 
knowledge himself a member of this despised Society, 
on the following occasion. 

At the time of the assizes at Carlisle, an acquaint- 
ance applied to him, in regard to a suit he had to 
come on the next day, involving the greater part of 
his property ; and Thomas being the only witness 
for the deeds of conveyance, whom he could at pre- 
sent procure, he desired him not to fail giving his 
attendance at the court early the next morning. 
Thomas, in answer to this request, said to the man, 



1691.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 301 

for whom he had a friendly regard, and saw that his 
case was a hard one : u I am concerned it should fall 
out so ; but I will appear, if it please God, and testify 
what J know in the matter, and do what I can for you 
in that way ; but I cannot swear." At this anwer, 
the man, in a passion, replied with an oath ; " What ! 
you are not a Quaker, sure ?" As Thomas had hith- 
erto neither received from others, nor assumed for 
himself this appellation, nor indeed as yet had seen 
whether he had so much unity with all their tenets as 
to justify him in adopting the name, he continued 
silent for a while, and attentive to the Spirit of Truth 
in his own mind, till clear in his understanding what 
reply to make ; and then he said, u I must confess the 
truth — I am a Quaker." 

This plain confession increased his own peace, but 
his acquaintance's perplexity and vexation, whose 
case appeared to himself thereby rendered desperate ; 
so that in the height of his anger, he threatened to 
have Thomas fined and proceeded against with the 
utmost rigour, exclaiming, " What! must I lose my 
estate for your groundless notions and whims'?" 
Thomas was not free from anxiety in consequence 
of this threat, under the prospect of probable fine 
and imprisonment ; but after some time of silent me- 
ditation, he felt strength to resign himself to the 
divine disposal, and therein found his anxiety vanish, 
and his mind centre in serenity. The next morning, 
as he was going to the court-house to give his tes- 
timony, his acquaintance met him with a cheerful 
countenance, and in a very different disposition from 
the night before, and informed him that his adver- 
sary had yielded the cause, and they were agreed, to 
his satisfaction. 

He continued diligently to attend the meetings of 
this people : where, in silent worship, his heart was 
frequently tendered and broken, and at times, like- 
wise, under a powerful living ministry. Some years 
after he had joined Friends, he himself received a 

*26 



302 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1692. 

gift in the ministry ; and he devoted much of the re- 
mainder of his life to travelling in the service of the 
gospel, on both sides of the Atlantic. Few of his 
contemporaries were more diligent, or more esteem- 
ed for their gospel labours ; and the meetings which 
he visited were frequently attended by a numerous 
concourse of people of other professions. 

He gave up his profession as an attorney, per- 
ceiving that the practice of the law, and being con- 
tinually mixed up in the frequent suits and contests 
of worldly men, would disturb the peace and serenity 
of his mind, expose him to many temptations, and 
probably be the means of preventing his advance- 
ment in religious experience, and present an obstruc- 
tion to the fulfilling of his religious duties. 



CHAPTER XXXIV 



THE LABOURS OF JOSEPH PIKE AND OTHERS IN IRELAND, 
FOR A REFORMATION FROM THE SPIRIT AND HABITS OF 
THE WORLD. 

The well known testimony of the Society of 
Friends to Christian simplicity, arose not from any 
desire for singularity or distinction from the rest of 
mankind ; but was the necessary result of a clear 
view of the self-denial and redemption from the 
fashions and customs of a vain world, required of 
the followers of Christ. The most serious religious 
people, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, 
had from conscientious motives discarded the frivo- 
lous ornaments of attire which were very generally 
indulged in, and had adopted a plain, simple and use- 
ful style of dress. From among these, the Society 
of Friends in the beginning was chiefly gathered ; 
and for a considerable time, it would appear that 



1692.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS 303 

they were not greatly distinguished from them by 
their apparel. But their principles restrained them 
from following the changeable fashions of the world ; 
and as others varied from time to time, their own 
continued adherence to the simple mode of dress into 
which they had been led, produced, in process of 
time, a marked distinction between Friends and the 
rest of the community. Thus this Christian testi- 
mony arose into a more prominent point of view 
than, from the above circumstances, it had held 
when the members were recently gathered ; though 
George Fox had at an early date declared against 
indulging in gay attire, and encouraged his friends 
to faithfulness in this respect. 

This testimony to Christian simplicity was not 
confined to personal attire alone, but extended to the 
furniture of houses, and the general life and con- 
versation ; and for many years after the rise of the 
Society, a remarkable consistency of conduct was 
apparent among the members generally. Isaac Pen- 
ington once challenged the production of a single in- 
stance among Friends, of one who was taken captive 
by the spirit of the world, and thereby led under the 
power of covetousness. But alas ! this beautiful ex- 
ample of a whole society of people bearing with one 
accord in their bodies the marks of the dying of the 
Lord Jesus, of a crucifixion to the world and a deaf 
ear to its false allurements, gradually became cloud- 
ed over. Temporal prosperity was the portion of 
many Friends, whose children, growing up in ease 
and affluence, began to despise the cross which their 
parents had faithfully borne. Little by little, things 
crept in among families, which the pure word of 
truth could not sanction ; there was an eager pursuit 
of business, bringing great encumbrance upon the 
minds of some who might otherwise have been emi- 
nently serviceable in the church; and a luxurious tasty 
spirit got afloat, which craved to have household 
furniture, and even personal clothing, more delicate 



304 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1692. 

and showy than what pure Christian simplicity 
would have led into. Some faithful men and women 
in various places saw the inroads which the enemy 
was thus silently making in a camp, which had nobly 
withstood all the powers of persecution, and had held 
up, through evil report, a banner for the truth of 
God. In Ireland particularly about the year 1692 
was a standard raised against these inroads, and 
some advances were made towards a reformation. 
That eminent instrument for the gathering and pre- 
servation of the Society in this island, William Ed- 
mundson, with Joseph Pike and Samuel Randall, 
felt deeply concerned for the revival of ancient sim- 
plicity, and began to arouse their brethren to the 
necessity of a united effort for this very desirable ob- 
ject. They had, however, great difficulties to en- 
counter. Many had gone out into extravagant fur- 
niture and apparel, to gratify the natural mind in 
things which the Divine Spirit in the beginning had 
led Friends to put away. Some from wearing 
dresses of plain colours, had got lighter ones ; and 
others seeing these, had themselves gone a degree 
further, adding a small or a larger figure ; until at 
length such vain fashionable colours and patterns 
were indulged in, and so excessively fine and super- 
fluous furniture, that many could scarcely be recog- 
nized as belonging to the Society. 

At length the attention of the Half-yearly Meeting 
in Dublin was called to the subject ; and under a 
pressure of spirit it issued advice to the members, 
counselling them against these hurtful things, and ex- 
horting to a faithful uniting together for solemn wait- 
ing in spirit on the Lord ; to the right education of 
the children in godliness, industry, humility and self- 
denial ; and to a solid grave deportment, on all occa- 
sions, becoming the Christian. It was also recom- 
mended, that every Quarterly Meeeting appoint clean- 
handed and faithful Friends, who had a true concern 
for a reformation, to inspect and visit every particu- 



1692.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 305 

lar meeting, family, and person ; and to advise, ex- 
hort, and admonish Friends to a compliance with the 
advices, as they found occasion. 

Joseph Pike had returned to Cork from England, 
under a strong apprehension of duty to join hand and 
heart in the work of reformation. Being a young 
man, he had felt much diffidence of his own fitness 
for undertaking such a work ; it was very trying to 
him to have to appear as one of the foremost ; and 
he often said in his heart, " Oh, that I could shelter 
myself under some worthy elders ! then would I 
heartily assist them in spirit, and, as under their 
wing, do what little I could." But being appointed 
by his meeting with other Friends, to this weighty and 
arduous work, he heartily joined his brethren in first 
searching their own houses, and clearing themselves 
from marks of superfluity or luxury; so that they 
might with clean hands go to exhort their fellow 
members to greater simplicity, and accordance with 
their holy profession. In doing this, they had to part 
with many things which the world esteemed lawful, 
but which they believed were standing in the way of 
entire conformity to the will of Him, who seeketh a 
people crucified to the spirit of the world and the 
gratifications of the carnal mind. Not that they 
placed religion barely in outward conformity and 
plainness. Far otherwise — they were well aware 
that though we may outwardly conform in every 
thing to which the Holy Scriptures direct us, or that 
may have been practised or advised by the worthy 
men who were instrumental in raising up this people 
in the beginning ; yet if our hearts are not right in 
the sight of God ; and we do not witness a grafting 
into the true Vine, and a growth in the holy Truth, 
all the external conformity and plainness in the world, 
though good in itself, will avail us nothing as to di- 
vine acceptance, but be as sounding brass and a tink- 
ling cymbal. Yet they were equally convinced that 
true religion leads into a deep searching of heart and 



306 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1692. 

of the secret springs of action, and allows not of the 
fostering of those natural propensities which have a 
life in show and parade, in delicacy and superfluity ; 
but leads us to deny ourselves, and by a holy and 
circumspect walking, to redeem the time, and to tes- 
tify our heartfelt conviction, that " we have here no 
continuing city," no permanent abiding place, but 
that " we seek one to come," as the chief and all 
absorbing good. And though some might frivolously 
argue, " Where is the standard of plainness and sim- 
plicity ; and what is the exact rule by which we are 
to square ourselves; or who are the proper judges of 
what is our duty in these respects, but ourselves ?" 
these would nevertheless find, if they were really wil- 
ling to obey, without reserve, the inspeaking Word in 
the deep recesses of the heart, that the Spirit of 
Truth is sufficient to guide in these as in all other 
things, and that it will so guide those who sincerely 
desire to be made conformable to Christ's death, into 
a holy consistency, and a certain degree of uniformity, 
by which they shall be known to be one another's 
brethren in that which changeth not, and will produce 
a tenderness and caution to be preserved from even 
edging or tending towards the side of a luxurious 
world, in copying after its vain and foolish fashions. 
They would see also that the church has authority, 
under its blessed Head, to claim the consistent walk- 
ing of all its professed members, with their high and 
holy calling. 

The committee thus appointed, after first searching 
their own houses, and clearing their hearts to each 
other in great freedom, proceeded in the work with a 
deep concern for the prosperity of truth, and the wel- 
fare of the members. They visited every family of 
Friends, and those who attended the meetings of 
Friends in the city of Cork, sitting down in quietness 
together with them ; and as they found a concern to 
come upon their minds, giving them advice and coun- 
sel suitable to their respective states ; particularly 



1692.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIEND3. 307 

exhorting them to keep close to the witness for God, 
the gift and measure of His Holy Spirit in their 
souls, whereby they might come to experience a 
growth in His holy truth ; and the inside being thus 
made clean, the outside would be clean also. The 
Lord owned them in their service, breaking in upon 
the spirits of those visited as well as the visiters, by 
his living and powerful presence, to the bow 7 ing of 
many hearts into tenderness ; so that some w^ould 
acknowledge their deficiencies, and in brokenness 
of heart desire to be found more faithful. No oppo- 
sition appeared in any of the families visited, but 
a general condescension to put away superfluities ; so 
that in a short time there was a pretty thorough refor- 
mation in that city, as to things that were contrary to 
truth and the rules of the Society. 

After this, Joseph Pike and other friends visited the 
province of Munster generally, more than once, and 
found a general disposition to accede to the concern 
and counsel of the committee. And similar visits 
were performed by committees in the other provinces, 
with the same blessed result. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

THE APOSTACY OF GEORGE KEITH. 

The unsound and dangerous notion, that a man 
once under the powerful influence of the Grace of 
God cannot fall therefrom, received a signal contra- 
diction in the melancholy instance of George Keith ; 
whose history is an instructive warning to those who 
may have tasted largely " of the good word of life, 
and the powers of the world to come;" lest wander- 
ing from the place of watchfulness, and giving way 



30S HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1692. 

to a spirit of self-exaltation, they become vainly puf- 
fed up by their supposed attainments, and fall into 
the snares ever laid for the feet of the unwary. 

George Keith had been an eminent instrument in the 
gathering of the people called Quakers from the bar- 
ren mountains of empty profession, to the green pas- 
tures and still waters of pure and life-giving Christi- 
anity. He was a native of Scotland, and had receiv- 
ed a liberal education in the university of Aberdeen ; 
and having joined the Society of Friends, was called 
into the ministry, and suffered imprisonment for his 
testimony to the truth, so early as 1664. The next 
year, believing it required of him to enter the steeple- 
house at Aberdeen with a gospel message, he was 
there violently assaulted and beaten to the ground by 
the bell-ringer. Shortly after this, the bell-ringer go- 
ing up the steeple to toll the bell, fell through a hole 
above four stories high, and was instantly killed by 
the fall, upon the very same spot of pavement where 
he had beaten dowm George Keith. 

George was afterwards, for several years, involved 
with numbers of his Friends in confiscations and long 
imprisonments for the cause of a pure conscience ; and 
also exerted himself, both in verbal disputations and 
on many occasions in print, in defence of the princi- 
ples he had embraced. Indeed for nearly thirty years 
he fully participated in the concerns and sufferings of 
the Society, and was in unity with its most esteemed 
members. But alas ! in a time of unwatchfulness, the 
enemy found an entrance into his heart ; he became 
wavering in mind and impatient under sufferings ; and 
was shaken from his stedfastness in the faith. That 
inward turning of the soul constantly towards the 
Lord with humble breathings for preservation, in 
which alone is true safety, gave way to self-sufficien- 
cy and empty speculations ; and he began to indulge 
himself in curious, uncertain and unprofitable ques- 
tions, the fanciful notions of one Van Helmont, con- 
cerning the transmigration of souls, the resurrection, 



1692.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 309 

and other matters calculated to subvert the mind, and 
carry it away from the right object of its meditation 
and its love. But finding no room amongst his Friends 
for the propagation of these airy notions, he let in 
secret jealousy and contempt, which afterwards broke 
out in open opposition and contention ; first with indi- 
viduals, and then with the body at large. 

Becoming meanwhile more and more impatient 
under the sufferings to which Friends where then 
subjected, he declared that as nothing but persecution 
was to be met with in England, he would seek an 
asylum in a land of liberty ; and accordingly sailed 
for America. He had not yet placed himself in an 
attitude of open opposition to Friends, and still re- 
tained a place in their esteem ; and on his arrival in 
Philadelphia he was chosen by Friends to superintend 
a school there, with a comfortable remuneration. But 
his restless spirit was npt satisfied. He aimed at 
having pre-eminence in the church ; and George Fox 
having died in the year 1 690, symptoms began to appear 
in George Keith's conduct, which led to a conjecture 
that he was aiming to succeed that eminent servant 
of the Lord, at least in America, in that esteem and 
influence which he had so rightly and disinterestedly 
held in the minds of his Friends. He even came for- 
ward in several instances to vindicate with his pen be- 
fore theworld,the principles of the Society, particularly 
against Cotton Mather, and the New England Pres- 
byterians. But many of his friends became increas- 
ingly uneasy with his restless aspiring spirit, and some 
were concerned in brotherly love and solicitude to 
communicate to him their apprehensions ; and he 
finding that he could not obtain that pre-eminence 
which he coveted, nor carry things in all cases as he 
pleased in the church, at length allowed his secret dis- 
gust and disappointment to break out into open dis- 
sension. He began with objecting to the discipline 
which the Society in America had established ; from 
this he went to captious remarks and bitter sarcasms 

27 



310 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1692. 

on the general conduct of Friends, their manner of 
preaching, &c. and soon raised a contest with two of 
his fellow members. He also undertook to deny the 
doctrine which he had before faithfully defended, that 
the universal love and grace of God in Christ Jesus is 
sufficient, if abode in, to procure salvation, without 
the outward knowledge of Christ's death and resurrec- 
tion. 

Friends in England were made acquainted with the 
discord which he was thus sowing in America ; 
whereupon George Whitehead, Patrick Livingston 
and some others wrote an affectionate epistle to their 
brethren in Pennsylvania, earnestly pressing them to 
" keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace," 
and warning them against disputations on subjects 
not tending to edification. But this was not sufficient 
to stop the efforts which George was making to obtain 
a party in his favour. Being baffled in his principal 
aim, of taking the lead in the Society, he let loose 
his malicious disposition without bounds, and vented 
his passionate resentment in illiberal reproaches, in 
violation even of decency and common sense. He 
railed against Thomas Lloyd, the deputy governor, 
from whom he had received many favours, calling 
him an •' impudent man and pitiful governor," taunt- 
ingly asking him why he did not send him to jail, 
and otherwise endeavouring to draw him and other 
magistrates into some measure which he might repre- 
sent as persecution for religion. But the men he had 
to deal with were of a different cast, being restrained 
by their religious principles from returning railing for 
railing ; they bore his reproaches with patience, and 
exerted their endeavours in the spirit of meekness 
to recover and pacify him, and prevent an open 
breach ; but without success. At length, after quarrel- 
ling with various individuals, and applying opprobri- 
ous epithets freely, as his passion dictated, he went a 
step further, and brought a reproachful charge against 
a reputable part of the body at large, accusing a 



1692.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 311 

meeting of ministers with coming together " to cloak 
heresies and deceit ;" and declaring that there were 
more heresies and erroneous doctrines among the 
Quakers than among any profession of Protestants ; 
in direct contradiction to what he had himself ad- 
vanced, when opposing Cotton Mather, within a year 
from that time. 

Hitherto Friends had treated with him in a private 
way in much meekness and patience ; but it was now 
thought that this public reproach demanded public 
reparation ; which George contemptuously refusing to 
make, the Monthly Meeting of Philadelphia proceed- 
ed to disown him. This they did by a testimony 
addressed to the several Monthly and Quarterly 
Meetings, containing a plain narration of his offensive 
conduct, and of the reasons of their procedure. 

George having succeeded in drawing around him a 
number of discontented spirits like himself, now set 
up a separate meeting, which assumed the title of 
" Christian Quakers and Friends," and made nearly 
its whole business, the vilifying of those among whom 
they had formerly walked in harmony and fellowship. 
George had gained over to his party one William 
Bradford, the only printer at that time in Philadelphia, 
and by his means readily published his malicious in- 
vectives. 

His old friends at Aberdeen were much distressed 
at hearing of his defection ; and wrote to him and his 
wife a tender, expostulatory letter, beseeching them 
to return into the unity of the body. It was addressed 
to "our ancient Friends George and Elizabeth Keith ;" 
whom they tenderly reminded how useful they (par- 
ticularly George) had been in building up the Lord's 
church and people in Scotland ; and after reminding 
George of his former labour in demonstrating the free 
unmerited love of God to all mankind, and referring 
him to two of his own treatises, they added, " How 
glad should our hearts have been to have found thee, 
George, going on, as moved thereunto, to improve thy 



312 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1694. 

talents, which the Lord hath liberally given thee, for 
further spreading the beauty, fame, excellency, and 
loveliness of this precious inward plant of renown ; 
and so edifying, comforting, and strengthening the 
flock of Christ, as in pastures of love, that the beauty 
of the love of brethren in unity might flow as sweet 
ointment, to make the lamp of truth shine with lustre 
throughout the world, — as in due time we believe it 
shall." — " O George ! bear with us in love, for we 
can say it is in tender breakings of heart we utter it, 
and in tender breathings for thee, that if that sweet, 
healing, meek, self-denying spirit of lowly Jesus had 
been kept and abode in, your breaches thereaway 
would have been handled after another manner ; and 
such a sad occasion to amuse the world, sadden the 
hearts of God's children, and rejoice the enemies of 
Zion's peace and prosperity, had never been told in 
Gath, nor published in Askelon." Here they appeared 
to allude to some of his publications pretending to set 
forth his grievances, which it is probable he had sent 
to Aberdeen ; and with other affectionate judicious 
counsel, they thus concluded : " So, our dear and 
ancient Friends, w r e earnestly desire you to receive in 
a right mind our innocent freedom and love : and in 
the cool of the day, go forth again with your brethren 
into the ancient green pastures of love, and to the 
healing springs of life ; giving up to fire and sword 
that w T hieh is for it ; so the first and the last works 
shall be precious together ; then ' righteousness and 
peace shall kiss each other.' And we can say, ap- 
pealing to the Lord our God, the searcher of hearts, 
our joy shall be great, to hear that the sweet, healing 
and uniting life hath or shall make up all those 
breaches in Israel's camp, by all of us submitting to 
it, and the true judgment thereof in His church. And 
in this sweet, ancient spring of our Father's love, 
wherein we have often been sweetly refreshed toge- 
ther, many years ago, shall we truly rejoice to hear 
from you, and also to see your faces, who remain your 
friends and well-wishers." 



1694.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 313 

But neither did the tender entreaties of these his 
early fellow-labourers avail to stop his angry career. 
In the spring of 1694, he returned to England, in hopes 
apparently of gaining upon the good will of Friends 
there. But after a patient investigation of his case, 
which occupied nearly ten days, the Yearly Meeting 
of London came to the conclusion that the fault lay at 
George Keith's door ; and charged him to retract his 
accusations, call in those malicious books of his by 
which the Society had been traduced, and sincerely 
use his best endeavours to terminate the separation. 
He rejected, however, this advice of the Yearly 
Meeting, and endeavoured to rend the Society in 
England ; but his rude and intemperate conduct frus- 
trated his intentions, and he gained but few adhe- 
rents. The next Yearly Meeting, seeing that he went 
on still in his disorderly course, confirmed the judg- 
ment of Friends of Philadelphia, by issuing them- 
selves a testimony against him. 

He was now totally separated from the Society, and 
set up in London a separate meeting at Turner's Hall, 
continuing to write against Friends ; who, however, 
found an able advocate in Thomas Ellwood. George 
having for some time endeavoured to court the favour 
of the Episcopal clergy, and raised their hopes of his 
bringing over to their communion, many of his late 
fellow-members, was after a time ordained a priest 
by the bishop of London, and received employment 
as a curate. His party in America dwindled away ; 
and when in 1701 he was sent over thither as a mis- 
sionary, he met with little success, and was looked on 
with disdain. Returning in about a year to England, 
he received the benefice of Edberton in Sussex. But 
his restless spirit involved him in contention with his 
parishioners about the tithes : for displaying an unu- 
sually extortionate disposition, and extending his claim 
to the very utmost, even to the tenth of the eggs of a 
single fowl, and of the garden roots of the poorest 
inhabitant, he lost the affections of his hearers, who 
27* 



314 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1714. 

were quite disgusted with his meanness and avarice. 
He fell into general disrepute, and many of his neigh- 
bours were accustomed to say, they should be glad if 
the Quakers would take him back again, so that they 
might be rid of so turbulent a spirit. 

There is ground to hope, that near his latter end, 
he had some hours of serious reflection, wherein he 
was sensible of the peaceful state he had once enjoyed 
in fellowship with Friends, and felt remorse for its 
loss ; for, paying a visit to Hurst-pierpoint, and a 
conversation arising concerning the Quakers, he 
owned before several persons, " that since he had left 
them, he had lost one qualification they had amongst 
them, that in their religious meetings they could stop 
all thoughts which hindered their devotions, which he 
very much admired he could never attain to since." 
And near the close of his life, a Friend paid him a 
visit ; which he appeared to receive kindly, amongst 
other remarks expressing himself to this effect : " I 
wish I had died when I was a Quaker, for then I am 
sure it would have been well with my soul." His 
decease is supposed to have occurred about the 
year 1714. 

This case of George Keith is one of deep instruc- 
tion. A neglect of inward watchfulness and daily 
self-denial had left his mind exposed to the darkening 
cloud of speculative error ; and the pride of a deceived 
heart prevented his accepting in meekness the labours 
of love extended for his recovery. " Let him that 
thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fail." But the 
downfall of individuals is not the downfall of the 
church. This is founded on a rock, and the Lord 
can still " send the rod of his strength out of Zion, 
and rule in the midst of his enemies." Let therefore, 
the humble, careful traveller be encouraged to look 
to the great Head of the church, and endeavour to 
stand faithful to His cause, watching over his own 
heart, lest at any time the cares of this world, and the 
deceitfulness of riches, and the lusts of other things, 



1694.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 315 

entering in, choke the word, and it become unfruitful ;" 
— " looking diligently, lest any man fail of the grace 
of God ; lest any root of bitterness springing up, 
trouble" the church, " and thereby many be defiled." 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

peter Gardiner's journey to Scotland, and death. 

In the year 1 694, Peter Gardiner, a Friend who 
lived in Essex, England, had a religious concern to 
visit Scotland ; but being low in circumstances, and 
having a wife and several children, was under dis- 
couragement about it. The Lord in mercy condes- 
cended to remove his doubts, by letting him know 
He would be with him ; and though he had no horse 
to ride, and was but a weakly man, yet that He would 
give him strength to perform the journey, and sustain 
him so that he should not want for what was suffi- 
cient. Having faith in the Divine promise, he laid 
his concern before the Monthly Meeting to which he 
belonged, with innocent weight; and Friends con- 
curring with him therein, he took his journey along 
the east side of the nation, through Norfolk, Lincoln- 
shire, and Yorkshire ; and coming to a meeting in 
Bridlington, where John Richardson then resided, he 
lodged at his house. In the evening, the doors being 
shut, Peter asked him " if any Friend lived that way," 
pointing with his finger, John told him he pointed 
towards the sea, which was not far distant. Peter 
said he believed he must go and see somebody that 
way in the morning. John asking him if he should 
go with him, he replied that he believed it would not 
be best, and so went to bed. 

In the morning, when John's wife had prepared 
breakfast, their guest not appearing, he thought he 



316 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1694. 

would go to his chamber and see if the Friend were 
well ; but to his surprise, he found that he was ^bne. 
Soon afterwards Peter came in ; to whom John said, 
" Thou hast taken a morning walk ; come to break- 
fast." Before they had done eating, a Friend from 
the harbour, which lay in the direction to which Peter 
Gardiner had pointed overnight, came in, and said, 
" I wonder at thee, John, to send this man with such 
a message to my house ;" and related as follows, viz. 
" That he came to him as he was standing at the 
fish-market-place, looking on the sea to observe the 
wind, and he asked him if he would walk into his 
house 1 To which Peter answered, that he came for 
that purpose. ' This was in the twilight of the morn- 
ing. When he went into the house, Peter inquired 
whether his wife were well ; to which the man an- 
swered, that she was sick in bed, and invited him to 
go in and see her. He said, he came so to do. Being 
conducted into the chamber, he sat down by the sick 
woman; and after a short time told her, that the 
resignation of her mind was accepted instead of the 
deed, and that she was excused from the journey which 
had been before her mind, and should die in peace 
with God and man. Then turning to her husband, he 
said, ' Thy wife had a concern to visit the churches 
beyond the sea ; but thou would'st not give her leave ; 
so she shall be taken from thee;' adding, i Thy wife 
will be happy; but behold, the Lord's hand is against 
thee, and thou shalt be blasted in whatsoever thou 
doest, and reduced to want thy bread.' " The man 
seemed angry with John Richardson, who said to 
him, " Be still, and weigh the matter; for I knew not 
of the Friend's going to thy house, but thought he 
was in bed ; and did not inform him about thee nor 
thy wife ;" at which he went away. 

Peter pursued his journey tow 7 ards Scotland, John 
Richardson and another Friend going with him to 
Scarborough, on horseback, for he would not let them 
go on foot with him. He kept before them as fast as 



1694.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 317 

they chose to ride ; and when they had gone about 
half-way, he gained on them, and John was filled with 
admiration, for he seemed to go with more lightness 
and ease than ever he had seen any man before. 
Riding fast to overtake him, he remarked, " thou dost 
travel very fast ;" to which Peter replied, " My Mas- 
ter told me, before 1 left home, that He w T ould give me 
hinds' feet, and he hath performed his promise to me." 
When they came in sight of Scarborough, Peter 
said, " Do take me to some Friend's house — a 
Friend 9 s indeed — for I am greatly distressed." John 
replied, " I will take thee to the place where I lodge, 
and if thou art not easy there, I will go until we find 
a place, if it may be." And just as they entered the 
door, they heard some one go up stairs ; and the 
woman of the house coming down, invited them to be 
seated. In a little while, Peter appeared very uneasy, 
and said to John, " I cannot stay in this house : here 
is light and darkness — good and bad." After the 
woman had got them some refreshment, she came and 
asked John, " Who hast thou brought here ?" — " A 
man of God," he replied ; whereupon they went 
away. Peter had a meeting at Scarborough the next 
day, and had good service. He also went to several 
Friends' houses, and frequently spoke his sense of the 
state of the families; but as they were about entering one 
house, he stopped and said to John, " My Master is not 
there — I will not go in ;" so they turned away. When 
John w r as about leaving him to return home, Peter 
asked him " if the small-pox was in any town on his 
way ?' John replied, " Why I Peter, what hast thou 
to do with that V To which he answered, " I am 
satisfied I shall die of that distemper ; and my Master 
told me to make speed in this visit, for I had but a 
short time to do it in." John Richardson was much 
affected ; and wishing to facilitate Peter's journey, 
who, he saw, bore the appearance of a poor man, 
asked him how he was prepared in money ; telling 
him it was expensive travelling in Scotland, Friends 



318 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1694. 

were thinly scattered, and the journey was long. 
Peter answered, " I have enough : my Master told 
me I should not want ; and now a bit of bread, or 
some water from a brook, refreshes me as much as a 
set meal at a table." John, however, insisting to see 
how much money he had, found it was but two half- 
crowns ; and feeling an immediate impulse to tender 
him some money, he took from his pocket a number 
of small pieces. Peter modestly refused them, saying 
he doubted not his Master's provision; but John 
forced him to take it, telling him the Lord had put it 
into his heart; and so they parted. 

In about two weeks afterwards, the man's wife at the 
sea shore, before-mentioned, died, as Peter had foretold. 
At that time, this man had three ships at sea ; his 
oldest son was master of one, his second son was on 
board another; and in their voyages they were all 
wrecked or foundered, their cargoes chiefly lost, and 
his two sons and several of the hands were drowned. 
So that, from considerable affluence, he was soon 
after reduced so low as to be maintained by Friends. 
The woman at whose house Peter was so uneasy at 
Scarborough, had put her husband to bed in a state 
of intoxication; which John Richardson had not before 
known him to be guilty of. 

Peter proceeded into Scotland, and paid a very 
acceptable visit among Friends of that nation. In 
the Eleventh month, he was at Aberdeen, Ury, Mont- 
rose, &c, where a remarkable out-pouring of the 
gift of the gospel ministry attended his labours. 
Robert Barclay Jun'r, David, Christian, and Catha- 
rine Barclay, Robert Gerard, and Margaret JafFray, 
among the young, and John Forbes and Jane Molle- 
son, among the older members, had their mouths 
opened to declare of the Lord's goodness, and invite 
others to partake of it. 

His visit to the neighbourhood of Ury was remark- 
able. Robert Barclay, the Apologist, as we have 
seen, was deceased, but his widow still resided there, 



1694.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 319 

with her seven children. On the death of her emi- 
nently gifted husband, George Fox had addressed to 
his bereaved widow, an epistle of affectionate sympa- 
thy; in which, after setting forth the consolations 
which flow from a union and communion with the 
Lord, the Husband and Father of His people, he en- 
deavoured to encourage her to do her day's work, to 
put on strength in the divine name, and to hope for a 
blessing on her faithful discharge of duty, as a spirit- 
ual nursing-mother over her household. And further, 
he subjoined his fervent prayer, that her children 
might be established upon the Rock, Christ Jesus, and 
thus be favoured of the Most High, through the fer- 
vent exercise of their surviving parent. She was 
indeed a faithful mother, and lived to see some of the 
blessed fruit of her religious care. John Grattan, 
who passed several days under her roof about this 
time, relates that, " when her children were up in the 
morning, she sat down with them before breakfast, 
and in a religious manner waited upon the Lord — 
which pious care doubtless had its desired effect upon 
them ; for as they grew in years, they also grew in 
the knowledge of the blessed Truth ; and since that 
time," he adds, " some of them are become public 
preachers thereof." Thus cherished and watered, 
did Peter Gardiner find this group of young " olive 
plants," when he entered their abode. His visit is 
thus described by some who were present. 

" When he came to Ury, he had a meeting there 
on Fourth-day. From thence he went to Stonehaven 
on Fifth-day, being accompanied by most of them of 
Ury ; and there he and Andrew J affray [who had 
accompanied him from Aberdeen] had a good oppor- 
tunity among the people. Thence, we came that 
night to Springhall ; [a house on the estate of Ury ;] 
and had there a good meeting, only he said, he felt 
the life slopped in some there, who would not give up 
to the Lord's requirings. The same night, after sup- 
per, he had a blessed opportunity with Robert, David 



320 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1694. 

and Patience Barclay, John Gellie, David Wallace, 
and Robert Gerard ; — and Robert Barclay [aged 22 
years] was opened in a few living words of exhorta- 
tion to the young people then present, which reached 
and melted our hearts in a wonderful manner. He 
said, it was himself, who had occasioned the life to 
be stopped in the foregoing meeting, by not giving up 
to the Lord's requirings ; and he concluded in a few 
living words of prayer. — Next day, we had a blessed 
meeting among the children ; where Christian Bar- 
clay, the younger [aged 14 years], had her mouth 
opened in prayer, to the refreshment of us all. That 
same day, we had a more general meeting at Ury ; — 
and on Seventh -day, we had another blessed meeting 
among the children; and the First-day of the week fol- 
lowing, we had a good meeting, where there were more 
people than usual ; and Robert Barclay bore a living 
testimony among them. Life so went along with him 
in it, that it reached the hearts of many of them, and 
astonished others. In that meeting was also his aunt 
Jane Molleson's mouth opened in a few words of tes- 
timony. That same night, we had a blessed meeting 
at Springhall; where David [aged 12 years,] Catha- 
rine, [aged 16 years,] and Christian Barclay Jun'r, 
bore, each of them, a testimony to the Truth. Yet, 
notwithstanding all this, our Friend Peter Gardiner 
could not obtain ease, but felt the Life stopped in one 
there, and at last named the person, and desired him 
to clear himself. And so, John Chalmers, their teach- 
er, [aged about 19 years, afterwards an acceptable 
minister in Dublin,] stood up, and said a few words 
by way of testimony. Then Peter ended the meeting 
in prayer, and came away easy. — Next morning, he 
had his farewell meeting at Ury : and so he, together 
with Robert and David Barclay, took his journey. 
But as we were parting at the end of the garden, 
Robert Barclay had some living words to those who 
accompanied us there. 

" We came to Montrose that night, where, after 



1694.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 321 

we had rested a while, we had a little meeting. Next 
morning we had a meeting among ourselves. About 
the middle of the day, we had a meeting of all the 
Friends of the town ; and some other people came 
in: both Peter and Robert Barclay preached on that 
occasion. We had also another meeting that night, 
where Peter fully relieved his mind. Robert and 
David Barclay both declared the Truth among them, 
also John Gellie had some words of prayer. The 
substance of the testimonies borne in the meeting, 
was much to this purpose: — That none should sit 
down in Zion at their ease, but that they should 
travail for the prosperity of the Truth in themselves 
and others ; that none should love the world or the 
things of it too much, nor be covered with any other 
covering but the Spirit of Truth ; and that a profes- 
sion of the Truth would not do, till persons came to 
the life, and possession of it. Next morning, we had 
a blessed farewell meeting ; and so parted from each 
other in much tenderness of heart. Peter Gardiner, 
David Wallace, and their companion went towards 
Edinburgh. 

" After they were gone, Robert and David Barclay, 
John Gellie, and Robert Gerard, returned to Ury that 
night ; and next day, we all had a blessed meeting 
among the children. The day following, we had a 
glorious meeting, where Patience Barclay, [aged 19 
years,] was opened both in testimony and in prayer, 
to the refreshing of all our hearts." 

" And so, the Lord God, as he hath begun a good 
work, will carry it on, if ice be but faithful to him 9 
over all that the enemy or his instruments can do to 
hinder it." 

Peter Gardiner having proceeded on his journey 
through the other meetings of Friends in Scotland, 
arrived at Carlisle on his way homeward: whence, 
as it is supposed, he wrote an epistle to Friends of 
Aberdeen, in which he spoke of the success which 
had attended his labours also in the west of Scotland 

28 



322 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1695. 

— where the Lord was pouring out of his Spirit in a 
glorious manner — and besought them " in the eternal 
love of God," not to " despise the day of small things, 
in themselves or others.' 11 

Having faithfully accomplished his extraordinary 
mission, it now pleased his Divine Master to take him 
to his everlasting reward. In accordance with what 
he had expressed to John Richardson in the early part 
of his journey, he here fell sick of the small-pox, and 
" made a very sweet and heavenly end." John Bow- 
stead, a Friend of Carlisle, coming into the room 
where he lay sick, asked him how it was with him ; 
to which he replied, " Ah, John ! I am sick in body, 
but the Lord reigns gloriously in Zion." He ex- 
pressed a sense he had of an awful day to come upon 
the nation of Scotland : and after a time of silence, 
John Bowstead being moved to prayer, Peter after 
him prayed very powerfully, — " That the Lord would 
preserve his people together in unity, and would spare 
and overshadow them with the wing of His power, 
until the storm be passed over." And the power of 
the Almighty being felt over all, they that were in the 
room were melted and broken into tenderness ; and 
some who had fallen from the Truth being present, 
were also tendered, and made to confess that the 
Lord was with him. As he lay quietly for a little 
time, there came into the room one that was not a 
Friend, but under convictions in his heart. Peter 
was so full of the small-pox that he could not see; 
but asked who that was, who came into the room. 
Being told by some one in mistake, that it was a 
Friend; "Ah!" said he, "it is no Friend; is it not 
such a one?" (which it was;) and called him near. 
He then spoke to the young man, saying, "Thou hast 
no peace in thy lying down, nor in thy uprising; 
therefore, I charge and warn thee in the name of the 
Lord my God, that thou speedily return, and draw 
near unto the Lord, whilst thou hast a day afforded 
thee ; for now is the day of thy visitation. — 1 tell thee, 



1696.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 323 

thou wouldst be heir of two kingdoms, but wilt never 
obtain them both." He uttered many other weighty 
expressions to particular individuals; and dictating a 
last message to Friends of his own country and else- 
where, he declared, " I have sweet peace with Him, 
that is the Redeemer of Israel, and am now waiting 
for my Pilot to conduct me to my long home." 

This Heavenly Pilot at length arrived, and his 
spirit was conducted to the haven of eternal rest and 
peace. 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

SAMUEL BOWNAS COMES FORTH IN THE MINISTRY ACCOUNT 

OF HIS EARLY LIFE. FRIENDS' PEACEABLE TESTIMONY 

MAINTAINED DURING THE INDIAN WARS IN NEW ENG- 
LAND. 

About the year 1696, Samuel Bownas came forth 
as a minister of the gospel ; who was afterwards an 
eminently serviceable instrument in confirming the 
churches, both in England and America. He was 
born in Westmoreland, about the year 1676, and re- 
ceived a religious education, his parents being upright 
and zealous Friends, who suffered much for their 
faithfulness to their Maker. 

When a child, his mother often took opportunities 
of admonishing him to a holy life, and to the fear of 
God, as the only way of obtaining His favour and 
blessing : and occasionally she would relate to him 
some circumstances of his father's sufferings in times 
of persecution, who had been removed by death be- 
fore his son Samuel was a month old. And when 
she took him to meetings, where she frequently had a 
testimony to bear in public to the Lord's power and 



324 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1696. 

goodness, he would particularly notice, even when 
very young, the tenderness and broken-heartedness 
that prevailed over those present, and would inquire 
of her, why they wept so much, and why she wept. 

But when placed out as an apprentice, though with 
an honest sincere-hearted Friend, he grew up with 
very little consideration about religion, or any taste 
for it, addicting himself to the pleasures of the times. 
And when at meeting, for want of a proper engage- 
ment of mind, he often shamefully spent those pre- 
cious opportunities of religious improvement in sleep ; 
for preaching, of which there was much, he took 
slight account of. Thus passed two or three years of 
his apprenticeship, with very little inward sense of 
God or religion. He was indeed considered a witty 
and sensible young man ; (for he took much liberty 
in conversation ;) but often on his bed he ruminated 
on his way of life with sorrowful reflection, and yet 
he fell into the same course again and again. No 
one could charge him with any gross vice ; but what 
he gave way to most, was jesting and foolish talking, 
and turns of wit to provoke mirth, which the apostle 
tells us are not convenient; (Ephes. v. 4;) and Samuel 
often found it so after it was over, and that the end of 
that mirth was heaviness of heart. However, the Lord, 
who is plenteous in mercy, even to the rebellious, 
gave him a remarkable visitation, which doubtless he 
remembered with gratitude through life, as it appears 
to have been the means of awakening him to a sense 
of his condition, and impressing him with a deep con- 
viction of the necessity of a change of heart and life. 
Being one First-day at meeting, Anne Wilson, a young 
woman, was present and preached. She was very 
zealous, and Samuel looking upon her, she with great 
energy pointed her finger at him, uttering these words 
with much power : " A traditional Quaker, thou 
comest to meeting as thou wentest from it, and thou 
goest from it as thou earnest to it, but art no better 
for thy coming;— what wilt thou do in the end?" 



1696.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 325 

This language came so home to his state at that time, 
that like Saul it might be said he was smitten as it 
were to the ground, being pricked to the very heart ; 
and turning his mind inward, he cried in secret, 
" Lord, what shall I do to help it ?" A voice spoke 
within him, " Look unto me, and I will help thee." 
Then he found such comfort to flow through him as 
made him shed tears abundantly. From that day he 
experienced the scrjptural. assertion to be true, that 
what is to be known of God and true religion, is mani- 
fested within : for upon this eventful circumstance his 
conduct and even his countenance became much 
altered, his soul being bowed down under heavy exer- 
cise ; so that he could for a time neither eat nor sleep 
as he used to do. Yet his work never succeeded bet- 
ter in his hands than it did at that time, nor was his 
mind ever less in it. He longed for the next meet- 
ing-day ; and when the hour of meeting came, his 
mind was soon fixed and stayed upon the One great 
object of worship and dependence, and he felt there- 
in an uncommon enjoyment and satisfaction. 

Relying on the Lord for strength and salvation, 
who had begun thus wonderfully to reveal His power 
in him, his understanding became opened, and all 
his faculties so sensible, that he appeared to himself 
another man; a divine and spiritual sweetness abiding 
with him night and day for some time. The Scrip- 
tures also became wonderfully clear and plain to his 
view, and the truths of the Gospel, there spoken of, 
he readily understood and embraced. He came 
clearly to see wherein he had before failed of the 
grace of God, in relying on a mere education in the 
way of truth, and outward conformity therewith, 
being thus a mere " traditional Quaker," instead of 
coming, as he now did, into an earnest travail of 
soul that he might be made acquainted for himself 
with the way to true peace, through Christ revealed 
in his heart, and operating there as the sanctifier and 
enlightener, and the only way to the Father. And as 

*28 



326 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1696. 

he gave up his heart to the cleansing and purifying 
baptisms of the Holy Ghost, and abode in deep humi- 
lity and watchfulness unto prayer, he became gra- 
dually prepared for service in the Lord's church, and 
in a short time received a gift in the ministry of the 
Gospel. m Going one day to meeting as usual, he had 
not sat long therein before his spirit was impressed 
with a very solemn weight, and a few words were 
presented to his mind, accompanied with a sense of 
duty to give them utterance. But giving way to his 
own reasoning powers, which suggested to him that 
it was too early for him to undertake so awful a ser- 
vice, being but an infant in religion, he was not faith- 
ful to the divine call, and the burden of the word 
was taken from him. Now came a feeling of con- 
demnation. He was made deeply sensible of his 
unfaithfulness, and of the loss he had sustained, and 
was much cast down in fear of being entirely given 
up of his Lord and Master. But mercy and for- 
giveness were still with Him, that He might be 
feared and obeyed. When the next meeting day 
came, Samuel went in great weakness and fear, and 
sitting therein with his mind deeply exercised to- 
wards the Lord, after a time he felt the same con- 
cern as before. He sat under this feeling until the 
meeting was almost over, and then giving up to the 
renewed call, he rose upon his feet, and delivered 
the message wherewith he felt himself intrusted. 
The joy and sweetness with which he was now re- 
warded were inexpressible ; and the next time that 
he was in like manner required to stand as a spec- 
tacle to the world, it was not quite so difficult for 
him to give up to the heavenly vision. For about 
three years however he did not speak frequently, nor 
much at a time ; but after that, his gift was enlarged; 
and through obedience he became an able minister of 
Christ, to the edification and comfort of the church 
and the convincement of many seeking minds. 

The motives inducing him to undertake the office 



1704.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 327 

of a preacher of the Gospel, it will be well to re- 
member, as they appear to have been perfectly con- 
sonant with the precepts and practice of Christ and 
his apostles: viz. 1st a clear, cogent, and convincing 
evidence of a Divine call, and heavenly impulse 
thereto — 2nd an indispensable sense of his duty 
necessarily obliging him to yield obedience to that 
call — and 3rd the sweet returns of inward peace 
and divine consolation accompanying his obedience 
therein ; which greatly conduced to his confirmation 
and perseverance in the way cast up for him. 

To the performance of this he found himself mea- 
surably prepared and qualified; for his own experi- 
ence of the love of God, and of the operations of 
His Holy Spirit, in gradually purging out the cor- 
ruptions of his own heart, had excited in him a 
Christian love to his fellow-creatures, attended with 
an ardent zeal and desire for their conversion. His 
preaching was attended with divine authority and 
innocence, which < commanded the attention of the 
hearers ; and his voice being clear, strong and dis- 
tinct, was capable of conveying his exhortations, re- 
plete as they were with sound judgment and doc- 
trine, to the ears and understandings of a very 
numerous auditory. He stood much upon his guard, 
as his gift enlarged, lest through self-love and con- 
ceit, he should depart from that humility, which is 
the ornament of every gospel minister. 

The importance of a faithful adherence to the 
peaceable principles of true Christianity even in times 
of great apparent danger, was well exemplified by 
some circumstances which occurred about the year 
1704 to Friends in New England. The Indian na- 
tives of the country, exasperated by repeated wrongs 
inflicted on them by the white settlers, had become 
very barbarous in the destruction of the English in- 
habitants, scalping many, and knocking out the 
brains of some ; by winch the country w T as kept in 



328 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1704. 

continual alarm. "But, as Thomas Chalkley says, 
the great Lord of all was pleased wonderfully to pre- 
serve our Friends, especially those who kept faithful 
to their peaceable principles. But because Friends 
could not join with their neighbours in fighting, some 
of them were subjected to imprisonment ; many 
people railing and speaking very bitterly against 
them, and wishing the Quakers might be cut off. 
Among, however, the many hundreds that were 
slain, the same Friend, who was then travelling in 
New England in the service of the gospel, remarks 
that he heard but of three Friends being killed, and 
that their destruction was very remarkable. One of 
these was a woman, and the other two were men. 
The men had been accustomed to go to their labour 
without any weapons, trusting to the protection of 
the Most High in a faithful maintenance of their 
testimony. But a spirit of distrust taking place in 
their minds, they took weapons of. w r ar to defend 
themselves ; and the Indians who had often seen 
them without any, and had let them alone, saying 
that they were peaceable men, and w T ould hurt no- 
body, and therefore they would not hurt them, now 
on the contrary seeing them have guns, and sup- 
posing their design was to kill the Indians, shot the 
men dead. 

The woman had remained in her habitation when 
many were fleeing to fortified places. Neither could 
she, her son, nor her daughter, be easy to seek their 
preservation and that of their little ones by such 
means. But after some time, the poor woman in a 
time of unwatchfulness lost her trust in the Lord's 
all-powerful arm, and letting in a slavish fear, ad- 
vised her children to go with her to a fort not far 
from their dwelling, her daughter Mary Doe, was 
one who had confidence in that " Strong Tower to 
which the righteous flee and find safety,' 5 even the 
name of the Lord Jehovah ; and her account of this 
sorrowful circumstance is very instructive. 



1704.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 329 

" When," she says, " the cruel Indians were suf- 
fered to kill and destroy, it was showed me that I 
must stand in a testimony for Truth, and trust in the 
name of the Lord. I often desired my mother and 
husband to sit down, and wait upon the Lord, and 
He would show us what to do. But I could not pre- 
vail with him : he would say, it was too late now, 
and was in great haste to be gone. But I could not 
go with him, because I was afraid of offending the 
Lord. He would say, I was deluded by the devil ; 
so that my mother would often say, * A house di- 
vided could not stand ;' and she could not tell what 
to do ; for although she had most peace in staying, 
yet she had thoughts of moving, and -said to me, 
* Child, canst thou certainly say it is reveraled to thee 
we should stay 1 If it be, I would willingly stay, if 
I was sure it was the mind of God.' But I being 
young, and afraid to speak of it so high, said, 
' Mother, I can say, that when I think of staying, 
and trusting in the name of the Lord, I find great 
peace and comfort — more than I can utter — with a 
belief we shall be preserved ; but when I think of 
going, Oh, the trouble and heaviness I feel, with a 
fear some of us should fall by them !' My dear mother 
sighed, and said she could not tell what to do. But 
I said to them, ' if they would go, I should be willing 
to stay alone: if they found -freedom, I was very 
willing ; for I was afraid of offending the Lord.' 

" But still my poor husband would say ' I took a 
wrong spirit for the right. — How should I know 1 — if 
I was right, I should be willing to condescend to 
him ? Then I said, * in condescension to him I would 
move ; but I hoped the Lord would not lay it to 
my charge ; for, was it not to condescend to him, I 
would not move for the world.' After I had given 
away my strength, in a little time there came men 
from the garrison with their guns, saying, they came 
for us, and thought the Indians might be near. And 
then away we went ; and my mother went in with 



330 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1704. 

my brother-in-law,_although I persuaded her not to 
do it. But oh, the fear and trouble that I felt ! and 
I told my husband, it seemed as if we were going into 
the mouth of the Indians. 

" The next day was the First-day of the week : and 
our friend Lydia Norton, coming with my dear 
mother, in her testimony said, there was there that 
was very near to her life, that was very near death. 
Oh then I was ready to think it would be I, because 
I believed we had done amiss in moving ; and great 
trouble was I in, and told Lydia thereof. But she 
comforted me as much as she could, saying, she did 
not think it would be myself. My mother went 
again to the garrison ; where she found herself not 
easy ; but, as she often said, she felt herself in a be- 
clouded condition, and more shut from divine coun- 
sel than she had ever been since she knew the Truth. 
And being uneasy, she went to move to a Friend's 
house in the neighbourhood: and as she was moving, 
the bloody cruel Indians lay by the way, and killed 
her. Oh then, how did I lament moving ! and pro- 
mised, if the Lord would be pleased to spare my 
life, and husband and children, and carry us home 
again, I would never do so more. But oh the fear, 
trouble, and darkness that fell upon me and many 
more at that time! Three or four of us kept our 
meeting, yet we sat under a poor beclouded condi- 
tion till we returned home again ; then did the Lord 
please to lift up the light of His love upon our poor 
souls. Then I told my husband, although he had 
built a little house by the garrison, I could not move 
again. So he was willing to stay the winter ; but 
told me he could not stay when summer came, for 
then the Indians would be about ; and that if I could 
not go to the garrison, I might go to a Friend's 
house near it. I was willing to please him, if the 
Lord was willing ; and then applied my heart to 
know the mind of Truth ; but it was showed me, 
that if I moved again, I should lose the sense of 



1704.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 331 

Truth, and should never hold up my head again. 
Still he would say, it was a notion ? till our dear 
friend Thomas Story came, and told him he did not 
see that I could have a greater revelation than I had; 
and satisfied my husband so well, that he never more 
asked me to go, but was well contended to stay all 
the wars. Then things were made more easy ; and 
we saw abundance of the wonderful works and 
mighty power of the Lord, in preserving us, when 
the Indians were at our doors and windows, and at 
other times — and how my dear children stayed at 
home alone, when we went to meetings, the Lord 
putting courage into them, and preserving them, so 
that no hurt came upon them. If I had not feared 
the Lord, and felt the comforts of His Holy Spirit, 
I never could have stood so great a trial, when so- 
many judged I was deluded; but the Lord was near, 
and gave me strength, courage, and faith to trust in 
Him ; for I knew His name to be a strong tower, yea 
stronger than any in the w r orld ; for 1 have often fled 
there for safety. Oh blessing, and honour, and ever- 
lasting high praise be given to the Lord and to His 
dear Son, our Saviour and Mediator Christ Jesus ; 
Amen!" 

Though the Indians were at this time frequently 
shooting people as they rode along the highways, 
knocking them on the head in their beds, and bar- 
barously murdering many ; yet Friends travelled in 
the country in safety, and had large meetings, and 
the good presence of God was abundantly with them. 
The people generally rode armed to their places of 
worship ; but Friends went to their meetings without 
either sword or gun, having their trust and confi- 
dence in God. 



332 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1731, 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

SHIPWRECK AND REMARKABLE PRESERVATION" OF SUSANNA 
MORRIS. EXAMPLES OF ZEAL AND SIMPLICITY IN IRE- 
LAND. 

Susanna Morris, a minister, of North America, 
about the year 1731, felt constrained in gospel love to 
pay a religious visit to Friends of Great Britain and 
Ireland. Having the unity of her friends, she em- 
barked in a vessel in which Joseph Taylor, from 
Raby, in England, was returning home from a similar 
engagement in America. The occurrences which 
befel them on this voyage were memorable, tending 
to strengthen her faith in the superintending care of 
Him who had sent her forth in his name, and are thus 
mentioned by herself. 

" Soon after I got out to sea, I dreamed that our 
ship would be lost, and there remained on my mind a 
solid weight, for fear it should be so. But at times, I 
thought it had been as some other dreams ; and yet I 
thought it safe to dwell humble and low before the 
Lord. I again dreamed the same ; and was weak as 
to being fixed in a belief of the truth of it, until the 
Lord was pleased to favour me with his goodness, and 
in one of our meetings to make it known to me, that 
we should surely suffer shipwreck. And then, for a 
season, I was in trouble ; but oh ! blessed forever be 
the name of our God ; for 1 had soon a good answer 
returned into my bosom, of our preservation, and that 
if we would be faithful, we should have our lives for 
a prey. I hinted something of my mind to the cap- 
tain, who seemed somewhat startled; and lest he should 
be too much discouraged, 1 had it given me to tell him, 
that I should see him safe on shore. It was sometime 
before it came to pass ; and when I hinted a little of 
what was made known to me, to Joseph Taylor, I 



1731.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 338 

found that it seemed like idle tales to him. So I for- 
bore to go further in the relation of it to him ; yet I 
was preserved so as not to stagger in my mind, or 
disregard the manifestations made known to me, from 
Him that is true. And as I endeavoured to dwell 
near Him who is faithful and true, my habitation was 
pleasant, until the sudden outcry was proclaimed, and 
nothing appeared but the destruction of our lives." 
The ship had struck upon a rock off the coast of Ire- 
land, near Dungannon. " Then, for a time, my out- 
ward tabernacle greatly shook and trembled. But, 
blessed be the great Lord of all our mercies, the time 
of trembling was soon over, and what had been made 
known to me was renewed, that the all- wise God 
w^ould command the proud waves, that they should 
not come at his servants to hurt them ; as it was said, 
* Touch not mine anointed, and do my prophets no 
harm.' And so it was, the Great God did preserve 
us, 1 believe, for his own name's sake. It was the 
time called Christmas-eve, and very cold ; and we had 
for two days, little sustenance for our bodies; and 
many times our heads were under the great waves, 
which rolled over us after she sunk, by reason of the 
strokes she got on the dreadful rocks. Afterwards 
she drove, until she settled on a sand bank. In that 
distress I had no help of man, or counsellor but the 
Lord alone ; and thought it best for me to get to the 
upper side of the vessel, and fix my seat by the 
shrouds, where I was favoured so that I kept my hold, 
when the waves rolled over us : and we remained in 
that wet condition about nine hours, in a cold time of 
frost and snow, before any of us got relief. And yet 
I was not hurt — the Lord is pleased to favour His 
heritage— though many of the ship's company lost 
their lives, some perishing with the cold, and others 
being drowned." 

John Griffith, who speaks of Susanna Morris as 
" a truly evangelical minister of Jesus Christ," men- 
tions the following additional particulars of this event, 

29 



334 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1731. 

narrated to him by Joseph Taylor. " The ship was 
driven on her broadside, yet did not soon break ; but 
the sea, running high, broke over her, and several of 
the crew were washed overboard, and drowned. 
The captain, Susanna Morris, Joseph Taylor, and 
perhaps one more, scrambled up to the npper side of 
the ship, and held fast to the shrouds, the sea frequent- 
ly breaking over them. Susanna never discovered 
the least impatience, in word or countenance, all the 
time ; but Joseph Taylor confessed that he once, in a 
flutter, or impatience, did say to this effect, * We 
might as well have gone at first, for we shall be 
drowned.' She looked upon him and said nothing"; 
but her looks were a sufficient rebuke for his impati- 
ence and distrust. After they had held a considerable 
time by the shrouds, this extraordinary woman had 
a sense given her, that they would not be safe on that 
side of the vessel much longer ; and although it seemed 
very hazardous to move and fasten to. the lower side 
of the ship, she urged them all to attempt it, believing 
it would be the means of their preservation. She at 
length prevailed, and they moved, in the best manner 
they could, to the lower side of the ship ; and soon 
after they had fixed themselves, there came a great 
swell of the sea, and threw the vessel flat on the 
other side ; so that if they had not moved, they would 
all have been drowned. A priest on shore being 
informed there were some alive on board in great dis- 
tress, came down to the beach, and charged his people 
not to hurt them, but use all means to save their lives ; 
which if they refused to comply with, they should 
never have their sins forgiven. And through the 
assistance of a merciful Providence, they brought them 
safe to land, and treated them with great hospitality." 
"And now," says S. Morris, in concluding her account 
of this wonderful preservation, " I write not this rela- 
tion because 1 would have any one think the better of 
me ; no, that is not what 1 aim at ; but that the poor 
in spirit, or weak in their own eyes, (if willing to 



1737.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 335 

serve the Lord,) may take a little courage, to trust in 
the Lord, and be truly willing to serve him in all that 
He may require of them.' , 

Great was the zeal and exemplary the simplicity of 
many members of the Society of Friends in Ireland 
in the early part of the eighteenth century. James 
Go ugh, a minister who went thither about the year 
1737, has testified to their holy and circumspect walk- 
ing, in terms so animating that we shall do well to 
ponder the example thus beautifully set before us. 

" ' God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in 
them ; and I will be their God, and they shall be my 
people. Wherefore come out from among them, and be 
ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean 
thing ; and I will receive you, and will be a father 
unto you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith 
the Lord Almighty.' 2 Cor. vi. 16, &c. By this call 
were our honourable predecessors in the beginning 
separated from the spirit and ways of the world, and 
incited to refuse touching the unclean thing, or what- 
ever sprang from an unclean source, what persecution 
soever that refusal might cost them ; knowing that 
He whom they obeyed and in whom they trusted, 
would carry them through all opposition. This they 
experienced, to their unspeakable joy, to be fulfilled, and 
testified to the world, many of them, both living and 
dying. In those days the meetings of Friends were 
more eminently favoured with divine power, as they 
lived more devoted to Christ, and consequently more 
abounding with His love flowing in their hearts. 

" I remember when a child* some whose very 
countenances seemed to command awe, and impress 
observers with serious consideration; as the salt of the 
earth, seasoning those amongst whom they walked, 
with a sense of the Truth which lived and predomi- 
nated in them. Those happy men and women left 
the Lord's vineyard (through their faithful labours 

* James Gough was born in the year 1712. 



33S HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1737. 

with the Divine blessing upon them) well fenced and 
clean, (having gathered out the stones thereof,) and 
abounding with the excellent fruits of the Holy Spirit 
of Christ. 

" At my first going [to Ireland] there were yet 
living in most parts of the nation, where meetings 
were settled, some of the good old stock, both minis- 
ters and elders, who loved God and mankind, and 
were esteemed and beloved, being kind and open- 
hearted, as well as faithful and circumspect in all bran- 
ches of our Christian testimony, closely united in ten- 
der love one with another in supporting and keeping 
things in good order in the church. Their pious care 
herein was like a fence about the flock, which kept 
them together in nearer unity and greater safety, 
so that the young people in most parts where general- 
ly trained up in innocence of manners, and in plain- 
ness of habit and speech." 

In another place, he relates of a friend of Kilconi- 
more, named John Ashton, that "he with his wife, 
when at liberty [from imprisonment for conscience- 
sake] constantly attended the meeting at Birr twice 
a week, generally walking on foot thither, being about 
seven English miles and a very bad road, wading 
through a river both going and returning. In winter 
they sometimes had the ice to break in crossing this 
river; and John had wept to see the blood on his wife's 
legs in coming through it. In those days truth was 
precious to its professors, who also possessed it; and 
no difficulties or dangers could prevent them from 
getting to their religious meetings, to enjoy the renew- 
ings of divine love and life with their brethren." 

The same writer, as a lively illustration of that 
great truth, that " a man's life consisteth not in 
the abundance of the things which he posses seth," 
records the following simple but instructive in- 
stance of the mode of living, devotedness and hos- 
pitality of some of the early Friends ; showing that 
man may live on little of this world's goods, if his 



1776.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 337 

mind be kept in humility, and his appetites subjected 
to the cross of Christ. " John Goodwin, of Escargogh 
in Monmouthshire, lived and maintained his family on 
a farm of four pounds a year ; but at length had pur- 
chased and improved it, so that he reckoned it worth 
six pounds a year. The first journey he travelled in 
the ministry, which was to visit Friends through 
Wales, he had then got of clear money about forty 
shillings in all ; and he was free to spend it, if there 
were occasion, in the Lord's service, knowing that 
He could give him, or enable him to get more The 
first time he began to entertain travelling Friends, 
(most of that meeting being gone to Pennsylvania,) he 
had but one bed, which he left to them, he and his 
wife taking up their lodging in the stable." 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

THE TRIALS TO WHICH FRIENDS WERE SUBJECTED DURING 
THE AMERICAN REVOLUTIONARY WAR. 

The breaking out of hostilities between the British 
American colonies and the mother country, about the 
year 1775, which resulted in the acknowledged inde- 
pendence of the United States of America, was a signal 
to the Society of Friends, to flee to the strong hold of 
faith for safety during the storm. Many experienced 
brethren foresaw that in this time of contention, those 
wdio stood firm to their peaceable principles, and imi- 
tated the example of the ancient Christians in resolutely 
refusing to unite in war, would be subjected to great 
trials : and they earnestly endeavoured to strengthen 
and confirm their fellow-members in bearing a noble 
and unflinching testimony to the peaceful nature of 
Christianity, even when property, liberty, and life 
itself were at stake. Some superficial individuals, 
29* 



338 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1776. 

nevertheless, in various places, were caught by 
the prevailing martial spirit, or induced by fear to 
relinquish their faith, and to trust in the arm of flesh ; 
but generally the Society stood firm through all that 
was permitted to assail it. Many of its members 
were exceedingly persecuted by one party or the 
other ; but it may be truly said that the Lord of Hosts 
encamped round about his poor afflicted people in 
their time of deep distress ; and even during the great- 
est commotion, a remnant felt the sweetness of His 
love, and the calming influence of that voice which 
said to the waves formerly, " Peace ! be still !" 

Even the outward circumstances of many who 
stood faithful appeared to be eminently preserved 
from serious harm ; whilst a different result attended 
some who lost their confidence in the God of Truth. 
One instance in New York was remarkable. A 
family descended from the worthy Isaac Penington 
resided in the city of New York ; and while many of 
their fellow-members and neighbours were thinking of 
removing to Long Island and other places around, the 
female head of this family could feel no peace in con- 
templating such a step. Accordingly they with some 
others remained in the city when the British troops 
took possession of it ; and while those who had retired 
found themselves more perplexed than before by the 
scouting parties of the troops, which lay all around 
the neighbourhoods to which they had retreated, these 
families who remained, were preserved from injury. 
A great part of the city was on one occasion con- 
sumed by fire, which surrounded the dwelling of the 
family above-mentioned ; yet their house was pre- 
served unhurt by the flames. 

The next year as the conflict became more close 
and doubtful, the enmity increased against Friends, 
who could not conscientiously take up arms in any 
cause ; and many of whom felt restrained from using 
the paper money put in circulation in order to carry on 
the war. Heavy penalties were ordered for refusing 



1777.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 339 

this money. On the first night of the year 1777, 
Thomas Watson, of Buckingham, Pennsylvania, was 
haled from his home and family by a number of 
armed men, who conveyed him to Newtown, and 
detained him forty-eight hours in heavy irons, and three 
nights without a bed to rest upon. Mark Miller and 
Thomas Redman, of New Jersey, were imprisoned 
soon afterwards for reading in their respective meet- 
ings an epistle issued by the Meeting for Sufferings of 
Philadelphia, in which the members of the Society 
were exhorted to stand fast to their ancient faith, and 
not to let the fear of suffering prevail with them to 
unite in any warlike operations. These Friends were 
confined eight weeks in Gloucester jail ; and several 
others were imprisoned the same year on a similar 
account. 

On the second day of the Ninth month, John Pem- 
berton, a minister among Friends, and clerk of the 
Meeting for Sufferings, which had, as above-mention- 
ed, thought it their duty to exhort their fellow-mem- 
bers to faithfulness to their principles, was arrested in 
his house by three officers with a guard of ten men, 
his desk broken open and rifled of the papers of 
the Meeting for Sufferings, and other documents, 
and himself dragged through the streets to the 
Masons' Lodge. His brothers, Israel and James 
Pemberton, John Hunt, also a minister, Henry 
Drinker, Samuel Pleasants, Edward Penington, and 
sixteen other Friends, were also arrested, and con- 
fined without any examination, notwithstanding their 
demand of a hearing from the Council and Congress, 
under whose authority their liberty was taken from 
them. A few days after their arrest, an order of 
Council appeared, for the banishment of these Friends 
into Virginia, and they were desired to prepare for 
their removal. On the ninth of the month they were 
conveyed from the city in wagons towards Reading ; 
and although they had obtained writs of habeas cor- 
pus from the chief justice, the assembly overruled 



340 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1777. 

them, and these innocent men were conveyed over 
the Susquehanna, and through Maryland to Winches- 
ter in Virginia, where they arrived in about three 
weeks. Here they were often treated with great 
harshness, and at times were much cast down ; but 
possessing their souls in patience, and reiving on the 
help and preservation of their Divine Master, they 
frequently had to acknowledge the comforting virtue 
of His presence whose favour is better than life, were 
made sensible that " the power of the Highest is able 
to stay the wrath of man, and preserve his dependent 
people," and were at times enabled to bless and praise 
his holy name. They held their meetings for divine 
worship regularly in their prison, which was a private 
house, guarded by soldiery ; and were often refreshed 
in sympathy w 7 ith each other. For a time they were 
allowed to ride or walk to a short distance from their 
place of confinement ; though afterwards this was 
rescinded, and they were kept closely confined some- 
times w T ith guards stationed at the front and back 
doors of their quarters. During this time of compar- 
ative liberty, John Pemberton attended the neighbour- 
ing Monthly Meeting of Hopew r ell, w T here a deep 
concern had been felt on account of the manner in 
which the lands in that part had come into possession 
of the white inhabitants, and a fear that the Indian 
natives who formerly owned them had not been fully 
remunerated for giving them up. A committee had 
been appointed on this important subject, which now 
proposed the raising of a fund to be applied for the 
benefit of the descendants of the natives formerly res- 
ident there, or any others where it might be truly 
useful. The meeting approved of the measure, thus 
affording a striking contrast with the unprincipled 
conduct which was prevalent in the community at 
large. Two months after this, he again attended 
Hopewell Monthly Meeting, in company with his 
fellow -sufferer, John Hunt, who had to speak of the 
judgments of the Lord upon the country, mentioning 



1777.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 341 

that he had heard, with his inward ear, a voice pro- 
claiming mourning, lamentation and woe, unless the 
people repented and sought the Lord ; and contrasting 
the balls, revelling and dancing, now prevalent among 
the people, with that humiliation of heart which ought 
to be experienced. He mentioned also an apprehen- 
sion that he should not have the like opportunity 
again among Friends there, though he wished to leave 
the event to Divine Providence. A short time after 
this, John Hunt was taken very ill. In one of the 
solemn interviews which John Pemberton had with 
him during his sickness, his spirit was much contrited 
and broken into tenderness, and he expressed a thank- 
ful sense of the continued regard of the Most High : 
but added that he " had a prospect that an exceed- 
ingly trying time would attend Friends as a people, 
more deeply exercising than they had ever experi- 
enced ; and that our deepest sufferings would be from 
some of the same family ; that many would make sub- 
mission to this and the other : but that the poor and 
some weak ones would be established ;" and he de- 
sired it might be noticed. He intimated that having 
in this time of great exercise made a narrow search, 
and desired the Lord to manifest if in any particular 
he had done wrong, he could not find anything laid to 
his charge ; but felt sensible " there was need of be- 
coming still more pure and holy, and inwardly refined 
throughout." Some days after this he seemed better ; 
and expressed to Israel and John Pemberton, that he 
had thought much of some expressions of John Wool- 
man's, in a time of great affliction, respecting true 
prayer : that it was deep, and the place thereof was a 
precious habitation ; that it was not to be truly come 
at in the commotions of the mind, but in pure stillness; 
adding that he thought he could at times say, " Not 
my will, O Lord, but thine be done." About a month 
subsequently, after passing through much bodily suf- 
fering, and submitting to the amputation of his leg, he 
quietly departed this life, after a banishment of about 



342 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1778. 

six months from his house and near friends, being the 
second of the prisoners who had died during their 
captivity. 

At length, on the 18th of Fourth month, 1778, an 
order came from Congress for their restoration to 
the Pennsylvania authorities ; and returning from 
Virginia, they were at Pottsgrove discharged from 
custody, and reached their homes in safety. The 
arbitrary nature of this transaction will be at once 
perceived from the fact that these innocent men wee 
subjected to a banishment and imprisonment of nearly 
eight months, without ever being permitted even the 
form of a trial, or being able to discover who were 
their accusers, or of what crime they were supposed 
to be guilty. 

Many were the instances of hardship and oppres- 
sion exercised against Friends during the whole time 
of the war. A Friend in Virginia suffered greatly 
for his testimony. Being drafted to stand guard over 
part of the army of General Burgoyne, prisoners in 
Virginia, he declined having anything to do with 
military proceedings. He was accordingly tried by 
a court martial, and sentenced to be flogged with 
thirty-nine lashes. Forty stripes, however, were 
heavily laid on him in the presence of several hun- 
dred spectators, with a nine-corded whip ; but the 
Friend, though much lacerated, was supported in 
faithfulness ; and both threats and persuasions were 
afterwards tried in vain, to move him from his con- 
stancy. His faithfulness, under this severe suffering, 
was thought to have been instrumental in spreading 
the testimony of truth: the procedure gave great dis- 
gust ; and one officer laid down his commission, de- 
claring that if innocent, conscientious men were thus 
treated, he would serve in the army no longer. 

In Carolina, about ten Friends were dragged along 
by the soldiers when about to engage in battle, in 
order to force them to fight ; and when the two hostile 
armies approached near each other, with their guns 



1778.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 343 

presented, ready for firing, these Friends still refusing 
to bear arms, were placed in front in order to receive 
the discharge. But Divine Providence preserved 
them in this extreme peril ; for falling down flat upon 
their faces at the moment the firing commenced, the 
discharge passed over them ; and though many were 
slain close by them, and the party w r ho had brought 
them thither w^ere entirely routed, yet they escaped 
unhurt. 

About this time Moses Roberts and John Hughes 
were on the same account cruelly detained in confine- 
ment at Lancaster, Pennsylvania, more than eleven 
months, without form of trial. 

The case of an officer of the American army is 
worthy of commemoration. A part of the forces lay 
near the Gunpowder Falls meeting-house ; but Friends 
were not thereby deterred from holding their usual 
meetings for worship. Among these troops was a 
colonel of dragoons, whose resentment against Friends 
was raised to such a pitch of malice, that one day, 
when traversing the country, he came to the most 
extraordinary and cruel resolution, of putting to the 
sword the Friends w r ho w^ere then collected at their 
place of worship; considering them as no better than 
a company of traitors, merely because they stedfastly 
refused to take any part in war. Drawing up his men 
accordingly, near to the spot, he ordered them to halt, 
in order to make arransements for the execution of 
his dreadful purpose. But at this moment, an awful 
silent pause took place, in which he felt his mind so 
powerfully smitten with conviction, that he not only 
drew off his men, but conceived very favourable sen- 
timents of the Society ; and continuing to yield to the 
convictions which were from time to time impressed 
on his mind, he after a while actually joined in com- 
munion with Friends, and continued faithful to the 
principles of Truth professed by tho:n. 

A remarkable incident occurred to David Sands, 
an esteemed minister among Friends, furnishing 



344 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1781. 

incontestible evidence of divine communication to the 
mind of this, servant of Christ. A detachment of the 
American army, comprising about five hundred men, 
was stationed near his dwelling a few miles above the 
city of New York. A secret uneasiness pressed upon 
David's mind, and his wife felt a presentiment that 
some trial was approaching them. One night, after 
they had retired to bed, she was alarmed by a noise 
about the house, which her husband thought might be 
the rustling of the wind among the neighbouring 
trees. In a few minutes, however, they heard some 
one near their room say, " Some of the family are 
awake — we will shoot them !" Their sleeping-room 
being on the first floor, David and his wife easily 
escaped by the window; but in passing through it 
they were discovered, and a pistol was discharged at 
them, the ball of which grazed David's forehead. 
Having on but a scanty supply of clothing, and the 
night being cold, they suffered severely before morn- 
ing. After the day dawned, they returned to their 
-dwelling, which they found plundered of all the cash, 
about fifty pounds, most of their bedding, and even 
some of the furniture. A domestic and two children, 
who were sleeping in a different part of the house, 
were not disturbed. 

David soon felt that it would be right for him to go 
to the encampment. On his arrival, he found several 
officers conversing together, who thus accosted him : 
" Mr. Sands, we have heard of the depredation com- 
mitted at your house, and desire to know what you 
think can be done, to discover the offenders." David, 
after a time of solid consideration, informed them 
that he believed, if the men were drawn up in rank 
and file of fifty in a company, he should be able, by 
following divine direction, to detect those concerned 
in the robbery. The officers wondered at this, think- 
ing it impossible that with no outward knowledge of 
their persons, he should be able to point them out. 
Nevertheless, they ordered out the troops, and David 



1781.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 345 

commenced his review. As he passed down the first 
rank, he made a short pause near the bottom, and 
then went on to the next company. Here he soon 
paused before one of the men, and looking him in the 
face, said, " Where wast thou last night?" He re- 
plied, "Keeping guard, sir; and a very cold night it 
was." Didst thou find it so when at my house ?" 
asked David. At this, the man trembled so much, 
and discovered such evident marks of guilt, that he 
was immediately ordered out of the ranks, and placed 
under arrest. In like manner four others of the men 
were discovered. David then went to a young officer, 
and asked him how he came to aid and accompany 
his men to pillage his house? He denied the charge. 
David placed his hand on the officer's breast, saying, 
" Let me feel thy heart, and see if that do not accuse 
thee ;" and finding the heart throbbing so that it could 
be felt even up to the neck, he called the other officers 
to draw near, and see for themselves how his own 
heart had become his accuser. 

There had been eight concerned in the robbery, 
two of whom belonged to the company near the foot 
of which David first stopped, and should have been 
at that very spot ; but they had deserted before the 
search commenced. The greater part of his furni- 
ture, and about one-half of the money, was returned ; 
the rest was reported as lost. The offenders were 
brought to trial before a civil tribunal, where David 
not appearing against them, they were discharged ; 
but the officers informed him that by martial law 
they had forfeited their lives. They were brought 
bound to his house, and he was told that he should 
determine their sentence. Upon this he administered 
suitable advice to them, forgave them the injury they 
had done to him, and perceiving them to be weary, 
ordered suitable refreshment. Whilst thus returning 
good for evil, David's wife said to one of the men, 
" Thou art he that shot at us." Her husband added, 
" he has been told of that before." The staff officers 

30 



346 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1781. 

seemed to think that the young officer at least must suf- 
fer death, because he should have been an example to 
the men; but on David's earnest entreaty, they suffered 
him to desert. The men received some corporeal pun- 
ishment, to deter others from similar practices, and 
were then restored to the ranks. 

Several years after this occurrence, David Sands 
being from home on a religious visit, a man came up 
to him, begging his pardon, and would have gone 
down on his knees if he had not been prevented. He 
confessed himself to have been one of the two above 
alluded to, who had deserted, to avoid detection. He 
declared he had never been easy in his mind since, 
and expressed a hope that David would forgive 
him. David Sands replied, that it was out of his 
power to forgive sins, but he hoped the Almighty 
would forgive him, as he himself had long since for- 
given all those concerned in the robbery. The other 
individual of the two then came up. He also acknow- 
ledged that he had not had true peace since he com- 
mitted the crime. He appeared to be a reformed 
character, had comfortably married, and had applied 
to be received as a member of the Society of Friends. 
He desired that David, in token of forgiveness, would 
go with him, and partake of the hospitalities of his 
house ; which he did, and doubtless had much more 
satisfaction than if, pursuing him at law, he had 
avenged the injury received by prosecuting the of- 
fender. 



1671.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 347 



CHAPTER XL. 



SLAVERY. 

At the time when the Society of Friends arose, 
great numbers of slaves were held in bondage in 
various parts of the world, particularly in the West 
Indies, Virginia, and the Carolinas. Some of their 
owners were among the early converts to our Society 
in those lands, and Friends who emigrated thither 
from England, inadvertently fell also into the custom, 
and purchased slaves. 

But there were not wanting, even at that time, faith- 
ful men among them, whose souls yearned for the 
greater prevalence of the spirit of the gospel, in the 
intercourse between man and his fellow man, and 
who, though their attention had not been drawn to 
this subject so closely as it has been in the present 
age, yet felt that the immutable principles of justice 
and equity were for the whole race of mankind, and 
that the divine injunction of the Saviour of men, 
" whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do 
ye even so to them," was not limited by any varieties 
in the form of features or the colour of the skin. 

George Fox earnestly exhorted Friends that had 
slaves, to treat them with Christian care and human- 
ity, and to prepare them for freedom. In addressing 
Friends in Barbadoes in 1671, he desired them "to 
endeavour to train them up in the fear of God, that 
all might come to the knowledge of the Lord; that 
so with Joshua, every master of a family might say, 
' as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.' " 
He desired also, " that they would cause their over- 
seers to deal mildly and gently with their negroes, 
and not use cruelty towards them, as the manner of 



348 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1688. 

some hath been and is ; and that after certain years 
of servitude they should make them free/* And in a 
public discourse spoken to the people of that island, 
he used this remarkable language : " Let me tell you, 
it will doubtless be very acceptable to the Lord, if 
masters of families here would deal so with their ser- 
vants, the negroes and blacks, as to let them go free 
after they have served faithfully a considerable term 
of years, be it thirty years, more or less ; and when 
they go and are made free, let them not go away 
empty-handed." 

William Edmundson, who visited Barbadoes in 
company with George Fox, united with him in his 
labours on behalf of the slaves. He also addressed 
an Epistle to Friends of Maryland, Virginia, and 
other parts of America, in which he reminded them 
that God made all men of one mould, and that our 
blessed Saviour shed his blood for all without distinc- 
tion — that God is no respecter of persons, and Christ 
hath taken away the partition wall of enmity between 
one people and another; and reviving the command 
of Christ, to do unto others as we would have them 
do unto us, he asks, " which of you all would have 
the blacks or others to make you their slaves, without 
hope of liberty? Would not this be an aggravation 
upon your minds, that would out-balance all other 
comforts 1 So make their conditions your own ; for 
a good conscience void of offence, is of more worth 
than all the world, and Truth must regulate all 
wrongs." 

From this time forward, many bore a faithful 
testimony against the sin of slaveholding. The 
attention of the Yearly Meeting of Pennsylvania 
and New Jersey, was, by a cogent appeal from 
Friends of Germantown, near Philadelphia,*" drawn 
to the subject in 16S8 ; but this assembly at that time 



* This remarkable address was recently published in " The Friend,' 
vol. 17, p. 125. 



1717.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 349 

felt diffident of coming to a positive judgment in a 
matter which concerned the whole body of Friends. 
The first official step of the Society on the subject 
appears to have been taken by that Yearly Meeting 
in 1696, when in its collective capacity it sent down 
advice to its members, " that Friends be careful not 
to encourage the bringing in of anv more negroes; 
and that such as have negroes, be careful of them, 
bring them to meetings, and restrain them from loose 
and lewd living, as much as in them lies, and from 
rambling abroad on First-days or other times " 

William Penn felt and mourned over the state of 
the slaves ; but his attempts to improve their condi- 
tion by legal enactments were defeated in the House 
of Assembly of Pennsylvania. In the year 1700, he 
laid before the Monthly Meeting of Philadelphia the 
deep concern of his mind, respecting these poor peo- 
ple and the Indian natives, desiring that Friends 
should carefully discharge a good conscience towards 
them in all things for their good ; whereupon that 
meeting concluded to appoint a meeting for worship 
to be held monthly for the negroes, and advised their 
masters to endeavour to be present w T ith them. 

The advice of the Yearly Meeting of 1696 was 
repeated in 1711, at the instigation of Chester Quar- 
terly Meeting, which then comprised the whole south- 
ern branch of the Yearly Meeting, as far as Hope- 
well, in Virginia ; and the following year, the Yearly 
Meeting still feeling the subject to be of general 
interest to Friends in various parts, drew to it the 
attention of their brethren in England, requesting 
them, as they corresponded w T ith the other Yearly 
Meetings, where the slaves were more numerous than 
in Pennsylvania, to express to them their sense and 
judgment on this important subject. 

About the year 1717, the Yearly Meeting of Rhode- 
Island had the subject brought before it by some 
Friends, who had felt much concern on account of 

*30 



350 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1758. 

the importation and keeping of slaves ; but no deci- 
sive minute was then made. 

In 1729, the faithful Friends of Chester queried of 
the Yearly Meeting of Pennsylvania, whether, as 
the members were restricted by former advices from 
importing slaves, it were not equally reasonable that 
they should be prohibited from purchasing them 
when imported ; and the Yearly IVl eeting, uniting in 
this view, issued advice accordingly. This advice 
was repeated in 1735, and annually renewed after- 
wards, with one exception, till 1743 ; and frequent 
labour was from this time forward extended by the 
Monthly Meetings, to induce those members who 
were in the way of buying or selling slaves, to cease 
from the unchristian practice. In this year, a query 
as to the clearness of Friends from importing or buy- 
ing negroes, was added to those heretofore annually 
answered by the Monthly Meetings. 

The Yearly Meeting of London, in its printed epis- 
tle of 1758, " fervently warned all in profession with 
us, carefully to avoid being in any way concerned in 
reaping the unrighteous profits of that iniquitous prac- 
tice of dealing in slaves, whereby one man selleth 
another as he does the beast that perisheth, without 
any better pretension to a property in him than that 
of superior force.' ' This advice was adopted by the 
Rhode Island Yearly Meeting as a part of their dis- 
cipline ; and a query was also adopted the same year, 
whether Friends were clear of importing or buying 
slaves, and whether, when possessed of any by inher- 
itance or otherwise, they used them well, and endea- 
voured to train them up in the principles of religion. 

While the Society as a body was thus clearing 
itself of importing, buying, or selling slaves, the con- 
cern was spreading among the members on account 
of slavery itself; and Friends in various parts felt 
more and more deeply its utter repugnance to the 
spirit of the gospel. Among the foremost of these 
were John Woolman and Anthony Benezet; the for- 



1774.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 351 

merof whom, in 1754, published his "Considerations 
on the keeping of Negroes," which was widely and 
usefully circulated among Friends. And in the same 
year, the Yearly Meeting of Pennsylvania issued an 
excellent epistle on the subject, the substance of which 
was sent up from Philadelphia Monthly Meeting, and 
is believed to have been from the pen of Anthony 
Benezet. In this epistle Friends are earnestly rea- 
soned with, and entreated " in gospel love, seriously 
to weigh the cause of detaining them in bondage ;" 
and in 1758, the Yearly Meeting again earnestly 
pressed upon Friends who had any slaves, " to set 
them at liberty, making a Christian provision for 
them, according to their ages, &c. ;" and appointed a 
committee, consisting of John Woolman and others, 
to visit all such Friends as held slaves, and endea- 
vour to persuade them to set them free. Slaveholders 
were now also declared incapable of being employed 
in the service of the Society. 

For several years the subordinate meetings were 
exhorted to labour in Christian love and meekness 
with those who still continued this practice ; and 
from 1767, regular statements of this labour, and of 
the success which attended it, were forwarded to the 
Yearly Meeting. It does not appear that many were 
disowned for purchasing or selling slaves. The ear- 
nestness of the labour, coupled with forbearance, had 
the happier effect of inducing the greater number to 
abstain from doing either; and by the year 1774, this 
Yearly Meeting may be said to have cleared its 
members from dealing in slaves. A further step was 
taken this year, by the Yearly Meeting, directing that 
the cases of such as still persisted, notwithstanding 
the labour of their Friends, to retain their fellow men 
in bondage, should be brought up the next year for 
further consideration and adjudication by the body. 
The practice of hiring slaves, on wages to be paid to 
their masters, was also declared against, as promoting 
the unrighteous system. 



352 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1776. 

The Yearly meeting of 1776, repeated the injunc- 
tions of former years, to earnest and continued labour 
with the o lenders on this subject ; and declared its 
sense that those who could not be induced to desist 
from the practice of holding slaves should, after such 
patient, persevering, and ineffectual labour, be testi- 
fied against as no longer members of the Society. 
The subordinate meetings, on receipt of the minute, 
appointed committees to carry out the views of the 
Yearly Meeting ; but through the divine blessing 
which had rested on the endeavours of Friends, the 
principal portion of the labour had already been ac- 
complished, and the greater part of the slaves held 
by the members of this Yearly Meeting had been set 
free. It does not appear that many were disowned 
on this account ; and it is believed that by the year 
1782, the Yearly Meeting had cleared its hands en- 
tirely of this unrighteous practice. 

The Yearly Meeting of Rhode Island, in 1769, 
appointed a large committee to visit such Friends as 
were concerned in keeping slaves, and endeavour to 
dissuade them from the practice ; and the next year, 
enjoined that all should be set at liberty that were of 
age, capacity, and ability suitable for freedom, and 
the rest should be well treated, educated and encour- 
aged in a religious and virtuous life. And in 1773, 
they further declared, " that Truth not only requires 
the young of capacity and ability, but likewise the 
aged and impotent, and all in a state of infancy and 
non-age among Friends, to be set free from a state of 
slavery, that we do no more claim property in the 
human race, as we do in the brutes that perish." 
Four years after this noble testimony, a committee 
was appointed to aid the meetings in labouring with 
individuals for effecting the discharge of all w r ho were 
held in bondage ; which reported the next year, that 
most of the slaves were manumitted in their presence, 
and encouragement was given to hope that the rest 
would all be set at liberty. 



1787.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 353 

In 1782, this Yearly Meeting recorded, doubtless 
with a feeling of thankfulness to the Author of all 
good; " We know not but all the members of this 
meeting are clear of that iniquitous practice of hold- 
ing or dealing with mankind as slaves." 

The Yearly Meeting of New York, previous to 1759, 
had manifested its disapprobation of the slave trade ; 
and in J 767 the question was sent up for its judgment 
from Purchase Quarterly Meeting, whether the holding 
of our fellow-men in slavery were any more consist- 
ent with the Christian spirit, than the buying or selling 
of them. But it does not appear what notice was 
taken of this question. Four years after this however, 
a communication from Philadelphia Yearly Meeting 
on the subject of keeping slaves was read, and copies 
sent to the Quarterly Meetings; and a committee was 
appointed " to visit them that have slaves, and see if 
there can a freedom be obtained for them that are 
suitable for it ; and such as are not set free, suitably 
instructed and provided for." And in 1777, after 
labouring for several years with those who adhered to 
the practice, the Yearly Meeting directed that such 
as persisted in refusing to comply with the advice of 
their Friends, should be testified against. The 
answers to the queries from this time, state the care 
exercised by meetings in these respects, and few slaves 
appear now to have been left among Friends. A sol- 
itary one was reported in 1784 and J 785; and in 
1787 it was recorded that no Friends of that Yearly 
Meeting were concerned in negroes, as slaves. 

The first step taken in this concern by the Yearly 
Meeting of Virginia, was the adoption of a query, in 
1757, designed to forbid the traffic in slaves, and to 
enjoin the religious care of those already in possession 
of their members. But their minds, like those of their 
brethren in other parts, were gradually enlightened to 
a full view of the inconsistency of slavery itself with 
the benign precepts of the gospel. The subject at 
various times engaged the attention of the body, until 



354 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1784. 

in 1773, the Yearly Meeting earnestly recommended 
all their members who had slaves to give them their 
liberty when of mature age, declaring that they 
believed "the time is come when every member of 
our religious Society who continues to support or 
countenance this crying evil, either by continuing their 
fellow-creatures in bondage, or hiring such who may 
be kept in that state, should be admonished and advi- 
sed to discontinue such practices." The members 
were also tenderly reminded that a proper sense of 
their religious duty to these poor people would lead 
them " to advise and assist them on all occasions, par- 
ticularly in promoting their instruction in the princi- 
ples of the Christian religion, and the pious education 
of their children ; also to advise them in their worldly 
concerns, as occasions offer," — " it being the solid 
sense of this meeting, that we of the present genera- 
tion are under strong obligations to express our love 
and concern for the offspring of those people, who, by 
their labours, have greatly contributed towards the 
cultivation of these colonies, under the afflictive dis- 
advantage of enduring a hard bondage ; and many 
amongst us are enjoying the benefit of their toil." 

A deep concern prevailed in the Yearly Meetings 
of 1782 and 1783 on this subject; and in 1784, as 
some individuals still declined to comply with the 
advise of their Friends, the Monthly Meetings w T ere 
directed to extend such further care and labour, as 
they apprehended would be useful ; and where these 
endeavours proved ineffectual, were authorized to dis- 
own the offenders. Three years after this, as it 
appeared that some still continued unfaithful, the 
Monthly Meetings were again exhorted to enforce the 
discipline ; and thus, by patient and continued exer- 
tion they cleared their hands of this stain on any 
Christian community. 

We have thus seen the calm, cautious, and Christ- 
ian-like manner in which this great subject was 
approached by the Society, and the success which 



1784.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 355 

crowned their persevering efforts to free every slave 
within their borders. But they did not stop here. As 
the Society dwelt under the religious exercise which 
had been brought over it by the participation of its 
members in this grievous sin, a concern spread for 
making reparation to the slaves themselves for their 
labour, and for promoting the religious welfare of 
them and their decendants. Committees were ap- 
pointed, and funds provided to assist the free people 
of colour w T ith their advice, and to secure the educa- 
tion and religious instruction of their children. Reli- 
gious meetings were frequently appointed for them, 
which were held to good satisfaction ; religious visits 
were in some places paid to their families, and many 
instances occurred in which the negroes were remu- 
nerated in money for the services which they or their 
parents had rendered whilst in a state of slavery. 
By Rhode Island Yearly Meeting, committees were 
directed to be appointed in the Quarterly Meetings, to 
labour for an equitable settlement for their past services, 
and where any presisted in refusing to comply with 
the advice of the committees in this respect, they were 
to be dealt with as " disorderly walkers." Although 
disownment was thus authorized, the object w^as gain- 
ed without resorting to it in any case; so that in 17&7 
the effecting of a satisfactory settlement for the past 
services of those who had been held in slavery in that 
Yearly Meeting, was happily brought to a close. 
Something similar to this took place within the Year- 
ly Meeting of New York, and probably also in the 
other parts of the Society. 

It was not till all these duties were performed, and 
this debt of justice had been paid, that the Society 
felt itself called upon to plead the cause of the slave 
before the world at large, and to remonstrate with the 
rulers and the people against the iniquity of the slave 
trade and the wickedness of slave holding ; the first 
memorial to the general government having been pre- 
sented by the Yearly Meeting of Pennsylvania, about 



350 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1720. 

two years after the extinction of slavery within its 
own limits. From that period to the present time, 
the Society has continued to labour with diligence 
and perseverance in this righteous cause ; endeavour- 
ing to enlighten the public mind respecting the enor- 
mities of the slave trade and slavery ; to prepare the 
way for the extinction of these foul blots upon the 
Christian name, and to ameliorate the condition of the 
free people of colour.* 



CHAPTER XLI 



ACCOUNT OF JOHN WOOLMAN. 



We have seen that John Wool man was one of the 
most useful instruments in clearing the Society of 
Friends from any participation in holding their fellow 
men in bondage. 

He was born at Northampton, Burlington county, 
New Jersey, in the year 1720; and before he was 
seven years old, he was favoured with an experience 
of the operations of Divine love, tendering his mind, 
and producing a love of retirement and religious 
thoughtfulness beyond most children of his years. 
When his school-fellows were engaged in play, he 
delighted more in sitting in some retired spot, and there 
perusing the Holy Scriptures, in reading which his 
mind was sweetly attracted to seek after the state of 
purity, which he was led to believe the Almighty de- 
signed his servants to be found in. 

He was from early youth remarkable for his tender 



* There are at present seven Schools for coloured persons, establish- 
ed and supported by Friends, in and near the city of Philadelphia ; in 
which schools, about 666 individuals, 359 of whom were children, have 
received instruction during the year. 



1737.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 357 

feelings and sympathy for the distressed, whether of 
his fellow men or the irrational animals. During his 
childhood, going once to a neighbour's house, he saw 
a robin near the road, sitting on her nest and cher- 
ishing a brood of young ones. As he drew near, she 
fluttered about, and betrayed her anxiety for the safety 
of her little flock. But John, in his childish sport, 
and without much thought of the consequence, threw 
a stone at her, which struck the poor bird, and she 
fell down dead. He was almost immediately seized 
with horror, on contemplating the effects of his 
wanton act. He beheld the bird lying dead, and 
thought of the helpless little ones for which she had 
been so careful, and which must now perish for want 
of their parent to nourish them. After some painful 
feelings, he climbed the tree, and taking the young 
ones from the nest, destroyed them all, thinking that 
better than to leave them to pine away and miserably 
die of starvation. He was reminded of the Scripture 
truth ; The tender mercies of the wicked are cruel ; 
and for some time was greatly distressed, and could 
think of little else than the cruelties he had committed. 
As he grew towards the seventeenth year of his 
age, his youthful nature indulged in a love of compa- 
ny, which became a snare to his better feelings, and 
made work for bitter repentance. He was led away 
into some gaieties, and though he did not commit 
things commonly reputed reproachful, and still retain- 
ed a love for pious people, particularly for his religi- 
ously concerned parents, yet he yielded to the tempt- 
ations of the enemy of his happiness, in many things 
w T hich afterwards produced great remorse. About 
the age of eighteen, the judgments of the Almighty- 
followed him very closely, and he was, in looking 
over his conduct, often made sad, and longed to be 
delivered from those vanities in which he had become 
entangled. At times however, his heart, being 
strongly inclined towards them, turned again to folly ; 
then sorrow and confusion renewedly seized him, and 

31 



358 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1739. 

he resolved to forsake these vanities. But there re- 
mained in his heart a secret reserve — his will was 
not fully subjected to the Divine will — and consequent- 
ly his resolutions of reformation were not effectual. 
At length however, through the merciful continuance 
of heavenly visitations, he was made to bow down 
in spirit before the Lord ; and looking seriously at the 
means by which he had been drawn away from the 
pure truth, he learned that if he would live in the life 
which the faithful servants of the Most High lived in, 
he must not henceforth go into company as he had 
done, in his own will ; but all the inclinations of his 
natural mind must be governed by the manifestations 
of the Divine Spirit. 

Keeping to these convictions, living under the cross 
of Christ, and simply following the openings of 
His Spirit from day to day, his mind became 
more enlightened ; his heart was often contrited 
before the Lord ; an unspeakable change was wrought 
in him from the unregenerate nature ; and universal 
love to his fellow-creatures, attending the true love 
and fear of his Creator, became more and more the 
clothing of his spirit. He still found himself often 
encompassed with great weakness and liability to 
temptation ; and therefore frequently withdrawing 
into private places, he besought the Lord, with tears, 
to enable him to overcome temptation ; and His gra- 
cious ear w r as open to his cry. 

After a while, his former acquaintance ceased to 
expect him as one of their company, and he began 
to be known to some whose conversation was helpful 
to him. The tenderness of his spirit increased, and 
his mind became still more strongly engaged for the 
good of his fellow-creatures. He went to religious 
meetings in an awful frame of mind, and endeavoured 
when there to obtain an inward acquaintance with 
the language of the true Shepherd. One day, under a 
strong exercise of spirit, he ventured to stand up in a 
meeting and express a few words ; but not keeping 



1742.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 359 

to the Divine opening, he said more than was re- 
quired of him; and soon becoming sensible of his 
error, it was a source of great affliction to him for 
several weeks. He was however at length favoured 
with a sense of forgiveness ; and some time after- 
wards, again feeling called upon to say a few words, 
in the spring of Divine love, he was faithful to the 
requisition, kept to his Guide, and found peace. And 
being now humbled and disciplined under the cross, 
his understanding became more enlightened to dis- 
tinguish the promptings of the pure Spirit in the 
heart, which sometimes taught him to wait in silence 
for many weeks together, until he felt that to arise, 
which prepares the creature " to stand like a trum- 
pet/' through which the Lord speaks to his flock. 
He was thus taught to watch the pure opening of the 
spring of Gospel ministry; and also to take heed, 
lest, while he was standing to speak, his own will 
should get uppermost, and cause him to utter words 
from worldly wisdom, without the right authority. 
He was then about twenty-two years of age. 

In the management of his outward affairs, he found 
this inward monitor a true support and source of 
safety ; and he felt renewed solicitude that he might 
in all things act from an inward principle of virtue, 
and pursue worldly business no further than Truth 
opened his way therein. His employer had a negro 
slave ; and selling her, desired John to write a bill of 
sale. The thing was sudden, as the man who bought 
her was waiting ; and though the thought of it felt 
uneasy to him, yet considering that he was hired, 
and that the purchaser was also a member of the So- 
ciety of Friends, through weakness he gave way, 
and wrote the deed. But at the executing of it, he 
became so much distressed, that he told the parties, 
he believed slave-keeping was a practice inconsistent 
with the Christian religion. Some time after this, 
another Friend asked him to write a deed of convey- 
ance of a slave. But he now attended to his scru- 



360 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1742. 

pies, and told the person, he was not easy to write 
it ; for though many kept slaves, he still believed the 
practice was not right. 

From this time, his views appear to have been 
very clear, respecting the entire inconsistency of 
slave-holding with the pure religion of Christ ; and 
he was often led, under the constraining love of the 
Father of all, to plead with those of his fellow-mem- 
bers, and of other communities also, whose attention 
had not at that time been sufficiently directed to the 
subject, to enable them to see its iniquity. And la- 
bouring as he did in great tenderness, and under true 
religious concern, his efforts were blessed, and many 
were convinced of the sin of slavery, and set their 
captives free. 

But his mind was not so fully engrossed with this 
important subject as to divert his attention from his 
other religious duties. He was a zealous advocate 
for true ancient simplicity. His mind, through the 
power of Truth, being much weaned from the desire 
of outward greatness, he learned to be content with 
real conveniences, that were not costly; so that a 
way of life free from much entanglement, appeared 
to him to be the best, though the income might be 
small. He had several offers of business that ap- 
peared profitable ; but did not see his way clear to 
accept of them, believing the business proposed 
would be attended with more care and cumber than 
it was best for him to engage in. He saw that a 
humble man, with the Lord's blessing, might live on 
little ; and that where the heart was set on greatness, 
success in business did not satisfy the craving ; but 
that commonly with an increase of wealth, the desire 
for wealth increased. He was solicitous so to pass 
his time, that nothing might hinder him from the 
most steady attention to the voice of the true Shep- 
herd. 

He was often engaged from home as a minister of 
the gospel, to the edification and comfort of the 



1762.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 361 

churches where he travelled ; and was greatly con- 
cerned to exhort his fellow professors to a self-deny- 
ing life, and an inward acquaintance with the Most 
High. The preservation of the members of the So- 
ciety of Friends in this great feature of true Christ- 
ianity, was a constant subject of his solicitude, and 
he took care that his own life and conversation 
should not prove a stumbling block in this respect to 
the most tender seeker after truth. 

In the year 1754, as we have seen, he published 
the first part of his " Considerations on the Keeping 
of Negroes ; recommended to the professors of Chris- 
tianity of every denomination." In this essay he 
commences by stating the great position, that reli- 
gion is the ground of universal brotherhood, re- 
moving that spirit which would say, in a conscious- 
ness of superior advantages, " Stand by thyself, 
come not near me ; for I am holier than thou." He 
proceeds to show that the love of the Father of all is 
universal, and that the heart influenced thereby, be- 
comes enlarged towards all mankind — that in humbly 
applying to God for wisdom, our judgment may be 
enabled to discern the difference between right and 
wrong — that the golden rule " whatsoever ye would 
that men should do to you, do ye even so to them," 
is applicable to all men — that the purchase of a man 
who has never forfeited his right to liberty does not 
by any means deprive him of this natural right — and 
that if we cherish motives of self interest at variance 
with the general welfare of the great brotherhood of 
mankind, w T e shall be unable to answer the Almighty, 
when He ariseth "to make inquisition for blood." 
The second part was published in 1762 ; in which he 
dilates on some arguments briefly noticed in the for- 
mer essay, combats the inferences deduced by some 
from the instances of a kind of servitude existing 
among the Hebrews — gives some account of the hor- 
rors of the slave-trade — and shows that if we claim 
any right of possession in these people as the children 
*31 



362 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1762. 

of slaves, we build on the foundation laid by those 
who made slaves of their ancestors, and thus sanc- 
tion this grievous and crying wickedness. He ad- 
mits that there may be difficulties met with in eman- 
cipating the negroes; but inasmuch as we are greatly 
indebted to them for their unrequited services, we 
must patiently submit to some inconvenience, and 
while the evil-doer might be restrained or punished, 
we must not forget the right of the innocent to his 
liberty : and he thus beautifully draws towards a 
conclusion, with religion the end as it was the be- 
ginning and foundation of his argument. " There is 
a principle, which is pure, placed in the human 
mind, which hath had different names — it is how- 
ever pure and proceeds from God. It is deep and 
inward, confined to no forms of religion, nor ex- 
cluded from any, where the heart stands in perfect 
sincerity. In whomsoever this takes root and grows, 
of what nation soever, they become brethren, in the 
best sense of the expression." — " Whoever attains to 
perfect goodness and remains under the melting in- 
fluence of it, finds a path unknown to many, and 
sees the necessity to lean upon the arm of Divine 
strength, and dwell alone, or with a few in the right, 
committing their cause to Him who is a refuge for 
his people in all their troubles." — " Negroes are our 
fellow-creatures, and their present condition amongst 
us demands our serious consideration. We know not 
when those scales in which mountains are weighed 
may turn. The Parent of mankind is gracious — his 
care is over his smallest creatures — and a multitude 
of men escape not his notice." — " He seeth their af- 
fliction, and looketh upon the exaltation of the op- 
pressor. He turns the channels of power, humbles 
the most haughty people, and gives deliverance to 
the oppressed, at such periods as are consistent with 
his infinite justice and goodness." 

For several years he was much engaged, both as 
an individual, and as a member of various commit- 



1759.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 363 

tees appointed by the church, in exhorting his fellow- 
members to clear their hands of this crying evil ; 
and his labours were blessed with much success. In 
company with John Churchman he visited many 
slaveholders in Philadelphia and its neighbourhood, 
in 1759; which service he describes as "a time of 
deep exercise, looking often to the Lord for his assis- 
tance ; who, in unspeakable kindness, favoured us 
with the influence of that spirit, which crucifies to 
the greatness and splendour of this world, and en- 
abled us to go through some heavy labours, in which 
we found peace — and with thankfulness to our Hea- 
venly Father, I may say that Divine love, and a true 
sympathizing tenderness of heart, prevailed at times 
in this service." In this acknowledgment we see the 
true temper of mind described, in which our efforts 
in promoting this righteous cause should ever be car- 
ried on ; not with the heated zeal of man's natural 
will — thinking with Saul that we may be " doing God 
service" — but in the peaceable and gentle spirit of 
the Lamb, seeking the welfare and convincement of 
all, and stepping forward according to the pure 
pointings of the heavenly finger. 

His manner of proceeding in these visits may be 
still further elucidated by the following description of 
an exercise which came over him in Rhode Island. 
" The Yearly Meeting," says he, " being now over, 
there remained on my mind a secret, though heavy 
exercise, in regard to some leading active members 
about Newport, being in the practice of slave-keep- 
ing. This I mentioned to two ancient Friends who 
came out of the country, and proposed to them, if 
way opened, to have some conversation with those 
Friends: and thereupon, one of those country Friends 
and myself consulted one of the most noted elders who 
had slaves ; and he, in a respectful manner, encour- 
aged me to proceed to clear myself of what lay upon 
me. I had had, near the beginning of the Yearly 
Meeting, a private conference with this elder and 



364 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1763. 

his wife, concerning theirs ; so that the way seemed 
clear to me, to advise with him about the manner of 
proceeding. I told him, I was free to have a con- 
ference with them all together in a private house ; or 
if he thought they would take it unkind to be asked 
to come together, and to be spoken with in the hear- 
ing of each other, I was free to spend some time 
among them, and visit them all in their own houses. 
He expressed his liking to the first proposal, not 
doubting their willingness to come together; and as I 
proposed a visit to ministers, elders, and overseers 
only, he named some others, who he desired might 
be present also. As a careful messenger w as wanted 
to acquaint them in a proper manner, he offered to go 
to all their houses to open the matter to them ; and 
did so. About the eighth hour next morning, we met 
in the meeting-house chamber — when, after a short 
time of retirement, I acquainted them w^ith the steps 
I had taken in procuring that meeting, opened the 
concern I was under, and we proceeded to a free 
conference on the subject. My exercise w r as heavy, 
and / was deejp'y bowed in spirit before the Lord ; 
who was pleased to favour with the seasoning virtue 
of Truth, W'hich wrought a tenderness amongst us ; 
and the subject was mutually handled in a calm and 
peaceable spirit. At length, feeling my mind released 
from the burthen which I had been under, 1 took my 
leave of them in a good degree of satisfaction." 

In 17H3, under gospel solicitude for the welfare of 
the Indian natives of Pennsylvania, he paid a re- 
ligious visit to the Indians residing about Wyoming 
and Wehaloosing on the Susquehanna River, nearly 
two hundred miles from the city of Philadelphia; in 
wmich visit he was drawn into near sympathy with 
these poor people, and qualified at times by his divine 
Master, to impart counsel, and direct them to that un- 
erring Guide in the secret of the heart, which w r ould 
lead all men, without distinction of colour, to a sav- 
ing knowledge of the Lord, their Maker and their 



1763.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 365 

Redeemer. He often spoke to them through inter- 
preters ; but on one occasion, feeling his mind cover- 
ed with the spirit of prayer, he expressed his willing- 
ness for them to omit interpreting. The meeting 
ended with feelings of solemnity; and before the 
people went away, one of the Indians who had been 
zealously labouring for a reformation among them, 
remarked to the interpreter, " I love to feel where 
words come from ;" thus manifesting that though the 
language was foreign, yet there was a savour accom- 
panying this heaven-prompted prayer, which had met 
a sympathetic feeling in the mind of this simple child 
of the forest. 

Another Christian concern which came upon him 
this year, was occasioned by a juggler coming to 
Mount Holly, the place of his residence, and attract- 
ing many of the inhabitants to a certain public house 
to see his foolish tricks. He says, " I heard of it the 
next day, and understanding that the show was to be 
continued, and the people to meet about sunset, I felt 
an exercise on that account. So I went to the public 
house in the evening, and told the man of the house 
that I had an inclination to spend part of the evening 
there ; with which he signified that he was content. 
Then sitting down by the door, I spoke to the people 
as they came together, concerning this show ; and 
more coming and sitting down with us, the seats at 
the door were mostly filled ; and I had conversation 
with them in the fear of the Lord, and laboured to 
convince them that thus assembling to see those tricks, 
or slights of hand, and bestowing their money to sup- 
port men who in that capacity were of no use in the 
world, was contrary to the nature of the Christian re- 
ligion. There was one of the company, who, for a 
time, endeavoured by arguments to show the reason- 
ableness of their proceedings ; but after considering 
some texts of Scripture, and calmly debating the mat- 
ter, he gave up the point. Having spent about an hour 
amongst them, and feeling my mind easy, I departed." 



366 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1772. 

In the year 1770, John Woolman was brought 
very low by a severe attack of pleurisy ; during which 
dispensation his mind was kept calm, and favoured 
with some openings into the excellency of heavenly 
wisdom. One day he dictated the following instruc- 
tive remarks on prayer : 

" The place of prayer is a precious habitation ; for 
I now saw that the prayers of the saints were precious 
incense : and a trumpet was given me, that I might 
sound forth this language, that the children might 
hear it, and be invited to gather to this precious habi- 
tation, where the prayers of the saints, as precious 
incense, arise up before the throne of God and the 
Lamb. I saw this habitation to be safe ; to be in- 
wardly quiet, when there were great stirrings and 
commotions in the world. Prayer at this day, in pure 
resignation, is a precious place : the trumpet is 
sounded — the call goes forth to the church — that she 
gather to the place of pure inward prayer ; and her 
habitation is safe." 

He had for some time had an impression on his 
mind that he should be called to labour in the gospel 
beyond the sea ; and this concern ripening, he sailed 
with the unity of his friends for England in 1772, in 
company with Samuel Emlen. In travelling up and 
down in England, he was greatly affected in observ- 
ing the splendour and delicacy in which many in- 
dulged themselves, while multitudes of their fellow 
creatures were not able to obtain the necessary com- 
forts of life ; and he laboured faithfully to encourage 
those of his own Society to simplicity and purity of 
life, in accordance with their self-denying profession. 
The last sentence in his journal on this journey is 
worthy of preservation. 

" In this journey a labour hath attended my mind, 
that the ministers amongst us may be preserved in 
the meek, feeling life of Truth, where we may have 
no desire, but to follow Christ and be with him ; — 
that when He is under suffering, we may suffer with 



1772.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 367 

Him — and never desire to rise up in dominion, but as 
He by the virtue of his own Spirit may raise us." 

A few days after writing this, he came to the city 
of York, where he was soon taken ill of the small- 
pox. During his illness, he uttered many heavenly 
expressions; ejaculating on one occasion in the fol- 
lowing manner : i( In the depths of misery, O Lord ! I 
remembered that thou art omnipotent, — that I had 
called thee Father — and I felt that I loved thee — and 
I was made quiet in thy will — and I w T aited for deli- 
verance from thee. Thou hadst pity upon me when 
no man could help me. I saw that meekness under 
suffering was showed to us in the most affecting 
example of thy Son, and thou taughtest me to follow 
Him — and I said, thy will, O Father, be done !" On 
another occasion, he said, " I feel the disorder making 
its progress, but my mind is mercifully preserved 
in stillness and peace." Again, " my mind enjoys a 
perfect calm." In the night he exclaimed with great 
earnestness, " Oh my Father ! my Father ! how com- 
fortable art thou to my soul in this trying season !" 
And being invited to take a little nourishment, he 
remarked, " I seem nearly arrived where my soul 
shall have rest from all its troubles." 

A day or two afterwards, he broke forth in suppli- 
cation in this manner : " O Lord, it was thy power 
that enabled me to forsake sin in my youth ; and I 
have felt thy bruises for disobedience ; but as I bowed 
under them thou healedst me, continuing a father and 
a friend. I feel thy power now ; and I beg that in 
the approaching trying moment, thou wilt keep my 
heart stedfast unto thee." Perceiving a Friend to 
weep, lie said, " I would rather thou wouldst guard 
against weeping for me, my sister. I sorrow not, 
though I have had some painful conflicts ; but now 
they seem over, and matters well settled, and I look 
at the face of my dear Redeemer, for sweet is his 
voice and his countenance is comely." Some time 
after, he said to his medical attendant, " My depend- 



368 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1775. 

ence is on the Lord Jesus, who I trust will forgive my 
sins, which is all I hope for." Thus humbly, yet con- 
fidently, did this devoted servant of Christ look to the 
mercy of his Lord: who took him to Himself in sweet 
peace, without sigh, groan, or struggle, in the fifty- 
second year of his age. 



CHAPTER XLII. 

ACCOUNT OF JOHN CHURCHMAN. 

In the year 1775, died John Churchman, one of 
John Woolman's fellow labourers in the gospel of 
peace, and in the cause of his afflicted brethren of the 
African race. 

He was born in the county of Chester, Pennsylva- 
nia, in the year 1705, and was tenderly educated by 
his parents in the profession of the Society of Friends, 
and early habituated to a diligent attendance of reli- 
gious meetings. He felt the reproofs of the Lord's 
Holy Spirit for evil words and actions at a very early 
period of his life ; but knew not whence they came, 
until he was about eight years of age ; when sitting 
one day in a small meeting, the Lord by his heavenly 
love and goodness overcame and tendered his heart, 
and by his glorious Light, discovered to him a know- 
ledge of Himself. He was enabled to see where he 
was in the Divine sight, even in a state of vanity and 
estrangement from his Heavenly Father; and was 
mercifully made to feel also, that the forgiveness of 
his sins would follow his obedience to the discoveries 
of this Divine Light of Christ in his soul, reproving 
for sin and restraining from it ; so that he might wit- 
ness a dying indeed to sin, and a being raised by the 
power of God, into newness of life in Christ Jesus, no 
longer to live to himself, to fulfil the inclinations of the 



1775.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 369 

flesh, but to live unto Him who died to take away 
sin. 

It was his practice, when a child, on going to rest 
for the night, to examine how he had spent the past 
day, and endeavour to feel the presence of the Lord 
near. This practice he found greatly helpful in ena- 
bling him to sleep with a sweet and easy mind. But 
notwithstanding he had been thus favoured, when 
quite young, and enlightened to behold the beauty of 
true religion, yet as he advanced in years, through 
unwatchfulness he lost in degree this tender state of 
mind, and began to take pleasure in many things 
which he had formerly been convinced were wrong. 
He indulged a fondness for small musical instruments, 
and an aptness for jesting and wdtty turns in conver- 
sation, and neglected the right improvement of his 
mind. The condemnation which afterwards was his 
portion on account of his lightness and forgetfulness 
of God, was not to be expressed. He was followed 
by that merciful Hand which waited to pluck his feet 
out of the mire and clay into which he had fallen ; 
and was visited by deep convictions of the sinfulness 
of his course. He became afraid even to be looked 
at in the face by virtuous persons, lest they should 
discern the wickedness of his heart. In this miserable 
condition he arrived at the nineteenth year of his age ; 
when as he was one day walking to meeting, thinking 
on his forlorn condition, and remembering the heaven- 
ly bread of which he had partaken when he was a 
dutiful child ; but of which he had now, by straying 
from the heavenly Father's house, been eight years in 
grievous want; he inwardly cried unto the Most 
High, " If thou art pleased again to visit me, I beseech 
thee, O Lord, visit my body with sickness, or pain, or 
whatever thou mayst please, so that the will of the 
' old man' may be slain, and every thing in me that 
thy controversy is against ; that I may be made a 
sanctified vessel by thy power. Spare only my life, 
until my redemption is wrought, and my peace made 

32 



370 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1775. 

with thee!" After this, he remained for several 
months in the same disconsolate condition ; but when 
he had attained the age of twenty years, it pleased the 
Lord to remember him in judgments mixed with 
mercy, and make way for his deliverance. He was 
visited with a severe fit of sickness ; which in a few 
days fully awakened him. His mis-spent time and all 
his transgressions were brought to his remembrance 
with heavy condemnation. In great distress he cried 
to the Lord for pity and deliverance from sin ; his 
heart was made exceedingly tender under an awful 
sense of his condition ; he wept much ; and threw 
himself on the mercy of Him whose compassions fail 
not ; and the Lord heard his cry, looked down from 
His holy habitation, and gave him a willing heart to 
bear those chastisements which were needful, to 
cleanse and purify him, and create him anew in Christ 
Jesus unto good works. It pleased the Almighty to 
restore him after a while to health ; and he was fre- 
quently humbled under a sense of the tender dealings 
of Him whose goodness and owning love he felt to be 
very near. From this time he loved retirement, 
wherein he could feel after the incomes of this love 
and goodness, which he felt to be his life ; and was 
often fearful lest he should again fall away. It was 
soon manifested to him, that if he continued faithful, 
he would be called to the work of the ministry. He 
loved to attend religious meetings, both for divine 
worship and for the discipline of the church; and it 
was shown to him, that all those who attend these 
meetings for discipline should wait in great awfulness, 
to know the immediate presence of Christ, the Head 
of the church, to give them an understanding what 
their several services are, and for ability to answer 
his requirings ; for none should presume to speak or 
act without the motion and direction of His light and 
Spirit. It was accordingly in great fear that he at- 
tempted to speak in these meetings; but as he kept 
low, with an eye single to the honour of Truth, his 



1775.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 371 

peace and inward strength were increased from time 
to time. 

This was a time of growing in the root of life. He 
rarely passed a day without feeling the incomes of 
divine life and love ; though afterwards he was left 
for many days together without inward refreshment, 
and was taught not only how to abound, but also to 
suffer need, and to abide faithful under the withdraw- 
ings of the beloved of his soul. About the twenty- 
sixth year of his age, he was appointed with some 
other Friends to perform a religious visit to the fami- 
lies of the meeting where he resided. During this 
visit he first felt the motion of the Holy Spirit 
prompting to the exercise of gospel ministry ; but 
through diffidence he put it away, and did not 
yield himself up to the requiring. The consequence 
of this unfaithfulness was a sense of desertion. After 
the visits were over, he kept much at home, and had 
w T ork enough to watch against a lukewarm, indolent 
spirit, which would come over him when endeavour- 
ing to wait upon God. For though he came to meet- 
ing in a lively engagement of mind, he found the war- 
fare against lukewarmness, sleepiness, and a roving 
imagination, must be steadily maintained ; and that if 
none of these hindrances were given way to, the Lord, 
when he had proved his children, would arise for 
their help, scatter their enemies, and enable them to 
worship Him. 

In the year 1731, he was appointed to the station of el- 
der, though not yet twenty-seven years of age; and two 
years afterwards, was again united with other Friends 
in a family visit. He now began to think he had been 
under a delusion, in entertaining a belief that he should 
be called to the work of the ministry ; but one First- 
day, going to Kennet meeting, toward the close, 
something was impressed on his mind to offer to those 
assembled. Fearful and diffident, he had nearly for- 
borne ; but remembering what he had before suffered 
for disobedience, he stood up, and spoke a few 



372 historical memoirs of [1775. 

sentences in fear and brokenness of spirit ; and 
had satisfaction and peace in the dedication. On 
finishing the family visit, he returned home, and 
shortly after had again to open his mouth in the awful 
work of the ministry. He was gradually enabled 
clearly to discern between the promptings of warmth 
of affection for the people, which would lead to " offer- 
ing strange fire" that would have no efficacy in it, 
and the pure motions of the Lord's Spirit, with a 
necessity laid upon the poor servant, and a " woe, if 
thou preach not the gospel." From this time he 
grew steadily in the gift, and was often engaged in 
travelling in the service of his good Master, to the 
comfort and edification of the churches. In 1750, he 
embarked for Europe, and spent four years in visiting 
Great Britain, Ireland and Holland ; and through the 
course of a long life spent in the promotion of right* 
eousness, he proved himself" a workman that needeth 
not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of 
truth." 

In the seventieth year of his age, it pleased his 
divine Master to say of all his labours in His cause, 
" it is enough," and to call him to his everlasting 
reward. During his sickness, he frequently expressed 
his resignation to the will of the Almighty, and espe- 
cially toward the latter part of it, he frequently broke 
forth in heavenly melody, and aspiration of soul in 
praise to Him who had been pleased to shine forth in 
brightness, after many days of poverty and deep bap- 
tism, which had been a means of still further purifying 
from the dregs of nature. Being asked by a Friend, 
how he was, he replied, " I am yet in the body ; and 
when I go out of it, I hope there is nothing but 
peace ;" and soon after added, " 1 have seen that all 
the bustles and noises that are now in the world, will 
end in confusion ; and our young men who know not 
an establishment in the Truth, and the Lord's fear 
for a ballast, will be caught in a trying moment." 
At another time he said, " I feel nothing but peace, 



1775.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 373 

having endeavoured honestly to discharge myself in 
public, and privately to individuals, as 1 apprehended 
was required." 

With reference to the Society of which he was a 
member, he thus expressed himself: "I love Friends 
who abide in the Truth, as much as ever I did ; and 
I feel earnest breathings to the Lord, that there may 
be those raised up in the church who may go forth in 
humility, sweetness and life, clear of all superfluity in 
expressions and otherwise, standing for the testimony, 
that they may be useful to the church." And again, 
about three days before his death, several Friends 
being in his room, he said ; " Friends in the begin- 
ning, if they had health and liberty, were not easily 
diverted from paying their tribute of worship to 
the Almighty on week-days as well as First-days. 
But after a while, when outward sufferings ceased, 
life and zeal decaying, ease and the spirit of the world 
took place with many, and thus it became customary 
for one or two out of a family to attend meetings, and 
to leave their children much at home. Parents also, 
if worldly concerns were in the way, could neglect 
their week-day meetings sometimes, yet be willing to 
hold the name, and plead excuse because of a busy 
time, or the like. But I believe that such a departure 
from primitive integrity ever did, and ever will, occa- 
sion a withering from the life of true religion." 

On the 24th day of the Seventh month, he sat up for 
a considerable time, and appeared lively and sensible, 
though very weak ; and thus expressed himself: " I 
am much refreshed with my Master's sweet air — I feel 
more life, more light, more love and sweetness than 
ever before ;" — and often mentioned the Divine re- 
freshment and comfort he felt, flowing like a pure 
stream to his hrward man. In the evening he re- 
marked again, " the sweetness that I feel." Soon 
afterwards the difficulty of breathing increased, and 
at his own request he was placed in a chair; in 
which he peacefully expired, leaving the savour on the 

32* 



374 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1798. 

spirits of those who knew his character, of " an Is- 
raelite indeed, in whom is no guile." 



CHAPTER XLIII. 

THE SUFFERINGS OF FRIENDS IN IRELAND, FOR THEIR FAITH- 
FUL ADHERENCE TO THE PRINCIPLES OF PEACE, DURING 
THE REBELLION OF 1798. 

In the latter part of the eighteenth century, divers 
prophetic warnings had shadowed forth the com- 
ing of a storm over Ireland, not only in the poli- 
tical atmosphere, but also within the peaceful pre- 
cincts of the Society of Friends. John Pemberton, 
who travelled with John Churchman. in Ireland, so 
far back as 1752, remarks, on one occasion, that 
" Friends were exhorted to be more inward, and to 
seek to get into the valley; for the faith of some would 
be tried, and the church also would suffer a trial ; and 
it seemed as though the Lord would dry up the cur- 
rents on the mountains, and would restrain the clouds, 
[spiritually,] and would scorch these high places, and 
they should be barren ; therefore there was need for 
all to sink low, and get into the valley of true humil- 
ity, that they might have something to refresh them, 
when the Lord is pleased to cause a famine of the 
word to come. It was also testified, that He would 
likewise prove in an outward manner, though it was 
not to be declared in the will of man, nor the time to 
be limited ; for ' a thousand years with the Lord are 
as one day, and one day as a thousand years.' Yet 
if it did not happen in their time, it might in that of 
their offspring," &c. Whether these expressions were 
uttered by himself, or by John Churchman, does not 
appear ; though most probably by the latter. And 



179$.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 375 

about thirty-two years afterward?, William Matthews, 
travelling also with John Pemberton in that island, is 
mentioned by the latter, as having spoken in a meet- 
ing for worship in the province of Ulster, " of a day 
of trial, that in some way or manner would overtake, 
wherein the professors of the truth would be deeply 
proved ; and therefore Friends were exhorted to be 
prepared for it." John Pemberton was also present 
at a meeting in Dublin, at the conclusion of the Na- 
tional Half-year's Meeting, in 17S3, wherein Mary 
Ridgway spoke prophetically " of a day approaching 
that would try the foundations of the professors of 
Truth." And a few days afterwards, " our dear 
friend Samuel Neale had to express, in a lively, feel- 
ing manner, his sense of a day approaching, which 
would prove the faith and try the foundations of the 
professors of the Truth. He had not only at ihat 
time, but at divers others, been made deeply sensible 
thereof — whether by pestilence, or other means, he 
could not tell — but he exhorted Friends to prepare for 
trials." 

The deeds to be narrated in the few succeeding 
pages, developing in some degree, the scenes of insur- 
rectionary violence and rapine which brought Ireland 
into anarchy and distress towards the close of that 
century ; and the closely following deep trials which 
had well nigh overwhelmed the Society of Friends 
in Ireland, in perils from false brethren, will naturally 
lead to the conclusion, that the Most High still con- 
tinues to favour his faithful servants with a true sense 
of the state and dangers of the church, and even, at 
times, with a prophetic insight into the counsels of 
his holy will. 

About the year 1798, this beautiful island became 
the scene of all the horrors of civil war. It is not 
needful here to detail the causes which led to this re- 
bellion ; which was a struggle against the govern- 
ment, by a party incongruously composed of two 



376 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1798. 

classes ; the one crying out for civil license, and the 
other for Popish superstition ; under the respective 
names of liberty, and of religious uniformity. In 
their attempts to accomplish their object, the insur- 
gents defied all order and government, and committed 
most dreadful ravages in various parts of the country. 
The Society of Friends was a numerous body, parti- 
cularly in the eastern portion of the island ; and as it 
could neither unite on the one hand with the insur- 
gents, nor concur on the other with the warlike mea- 
sures of the government to suppress them, it was not 
to be supposed that either party would feel very 
friendly towards its members. There was therefore 
a gloomy prospect for those who were disposed to 
look forward with the eye of human reason, rather 
than with that of faith in the protecting arm of Him 
who never forsakes his flock. 

Friends saw the gathering storm, and endeavoured 
to strengthen each other for the trials which might 
await them. Before the rebellion broke out into actual 
bloodshed, both parties in the struggle successively 
made search in private houses for arms. The Quar- 
terly Meetings had in 1795-6 recommended to all 
their members, that those who had guns or other 
weapons in their houses, should destroy them, in order 
" to prevent their being made use of to the destruc- 
tion of any of our fellow- creatures, and more fully 
and clearly to support our peaceable and Christian 
testimony in these perilous times." Committees had 
been appointed by the several Monthly Meetings, to 
go round to the members, and see that this recom- 
mendation was attended to ; whose labours met with 
considerable success ; so that when the government 
ordered all arms to be given up to the magistrates, it 
was a source of satisfaction, that the members gene- 
rally were found without any such thing in their pos- 
session. They were also much relieved from the 
midnight depredations of the insurgents, to which 
most of their neighbours were exposed, in the lawless 



1798.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 377 

search for weapons ; as it was now known that none 
were kept in their houses. 

A Friend residing at Ferns, being appointed on one 
of these committees, and feeling the necessity of first 
clearing his own hands, took his fowling-piece and 
broke it in pieces in the street before his door, bear- 
ing a testimony to his neighbours, of his resolution 
that nothing of his should be made use of to the 
destruction of human life. Some of the magistrates, 
with the priest of the parish, came to his house to 
expostulate with him on having destroyed his gun, 
instead of delivering it up to the government, to assist 
in opposing the insurgents, and defending himself and 
his family ; though the priest, as it were involuntari- 
ly, acknowledged that he believed the Friend put his 
confidence in a higher power. Shortly afterwards 
the town of Enniscorthy was burnt, this priest was 
murdered, and his body, with many others, was ex- 
posed several days in the streets, until a few Friends 
ventured to bury what the swine had left of their re- 
mains. One of the magistrates was also murdered, 
and his house burned over his body. 

This Friend had afterwards opportunities, by stand- 
ing firmly to his principles, of alternately saving indi- 
viduals of both parties from the cruelties of war. 
He was however subjected to much danger, on an 
occasion when the military were preparing to hang 
some suspected persons, and fasten pitch caps on the 
heads of others. He foresaw the probability of his 
being applied to for ropes, which he had for sale in 
his way of business, and the risk which he might 
incur, in a time of martial law prevailing, if he refused 
to sell them. But he could not be easy to sell his 
goods for a purpose so repugnant to his principles ; 
and when the soldiers came to purchase ropes for 
halters, and linen for the pitched caps, he nobly re- 
fused to sell them, or, when they were forcibly taken 
from his shop, to receive any pay for them. This 
took place before the general rising in that part, and 



378 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1798. 

becoming known to his neighbours, he had reason to be- 
lieve that under the direction of Divine Providence, it 
contributed to the preservation of himself and his family 
at that juncture. For very soon after this occurrence, 
when the whole town was in consternation and tumult, 
and the Protestant inhabitants in continual terror, a man 
supposed to be of the party called "United Irishmen," 
entered his house early in the morning, declaring, 
"Let who may be killed, the Quakers will be spared." 
That morning, houses and grain -stacks were to be 
seen in flames in all directions ; the Protestants were 
fleeing for safety into the towns and villages, some 
wounded and bringing dismal news of others slain ; 
and every one's concern seemed to be to escape with 
his life. The next day the scene was changed. The 
military and Protestant inhabitants had left the town 
of Ferns, which soon became filled with an ungo- 
vernable mob of many thousand insurgents, follow- 
ing the steps of the military, and occupied in demol- 
ishing the houses and property of the loyalists. His 
house was soon filled with them ; when to his astonish- 
ment and humbling admiration, instead of the massacre 
which he and his family had apprehended, they were 
met with caresses and protestations of friendship, and 
demands of nothing but something to eat. It hap- 
pened that the day before, the Friend had prepared 
large quantities of food for the distressed people, who 
had then fled into the town in a destitute condition ; 
but this had not been eaten, and now furnished a sup- 
ply for the hungry multitude of insurgents who had 
crowded into his house. After this, they departed, 
and in a short time columns of smoke ascending into 
the air from a distance of six miles, gave the melan- 
choly tidings that the whole town of Enniscorthy 
was in possession of the insurgents, who fixed their 
camp on Vinegar Hill. 

The houses of Friends now became asylums for the 
relief of the suffering and the destitute, and often places 
of hospitable entertainment, without distinction of par- 



1798.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 379 

ty ; so that it was wonderful how their provisions 
and means held out. And though they often appear- 
ed in great danger from each party, on account of 
their houses being filled with the adherents of the 
opposite one, yet preservation was experienced in a 
marvellous manner throughout. 

The above mentioned Friend at Ferns was threat- 
ened one morning that his house would be burned 
that day, for his refusal to turn out some protestant 
women who had sought refuge with him. He meek- 
ly replied, that he could not but keep his house open 
to succour the distressed ; and if they burned it, he 
must turn out along with his guests, and share in their 
affliction. That day being the day on which the 
Monthly Meeting was to be held, about a mile from 
Ferns, notwithstanding this alarming denunciation, he 
believed it his duty to attend the meeting, and took 
his family with him, expecting that before the next 
day he should be without a habitation or the means 
of present support. But his faith was strong in the 
preserving power of the Lord ; who saw the sincer- 
ity of his obedience, and caused even the hearts of 
his enemies to change towards him, so that they not 
only refrained from fulfilling their threats, but never 
afterwards made a like demand from him. 

Soon afterwards, standing at the door of his house, 
while the army w r as entering the town in pursuit of 
the Hying insurgents, a soldier stepping up, presented 
his gun at his breast, and was on the point of draw- 
ing the trigger, when the Friend desired him to " de- 
sist from murder." The soldier was struck with 
amazement, and immediately let his gun fall from 
his shoulder. The commanding officer afterwards 
desired, in relation to some suspected persons made 
prisoners, who pleaded their innocence, that if there 
were any Quakers in the town, these persons would 
get certificates of good behaviour from them; and this 
same Friend was applied to by several, and had the 



3 SO HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1798. 

satisfaction of procuring their liberation from prison, 
and perhaps from death. 

Friends were now subjected to great danger 
throughout the country, but were not willing to re- 
linquish their duty of assembling together for the pub- 
lic worship of the Almighty ; though it was often 
necessary for them to go many miles to their meet- 
ings, through parts infested with armed and violent 
men, and to leave their homes, in all human probabili- 
ty, a prey to pillage or fire during their absence. In 
the county of Wexford, some Friends having been 
observed thus to persevere in attending their place 
of worship, were apprised by the insurgents, that if 
they persisted in it, they should be dragged to the 
altar of a Popish chapel near which they passed, and 
suffer the penalty of their obstinacy. One family, 
in particular, received notice, that unless they gave 
up the attendance of meetings, and united in the papal 
forms of worship, they should all be put to death, and 
their house should be burned. The next day was 
meeting-day, and the heads of the family feeling the 
solemn responsibility of their situation, were brought 
under deep mental exercise, accompanied with fer- 
vent prayers that they might be enabled to come to a 
right determination in this awful crisis. Collecting 
their family together into solemn retirement, they laid 
the matter before their children. The noble and 
Christian language of the eldest son, then a very 
young man, was, " Father, rejoice that we are found 
worthy to suffer !" His parents were much affected, 
and their minds strengthened to conclude to attend 
their meeting as usual. In the morning, accordingly, 
thev proceeded to their place of worship along the 
public road, not being easy to go privately through 
the fields ; and their enemies were prevented from 
carrying their threats into execution, by the sudden 
arrival, unknown to these Friends, of the royal army 
in that part of the country. Thus they were pre- 
served from harm, and had the satisfaction of not 



1798.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 381 

having flinched from their duty, under so great a trial 
of faith. 

A neighbouring family of Friends, containing sev- 
eral daughters, was similarly threatened ; but the 
young women faithfully maintained their testimony to 
the duty of assembling to worship the Almighty in 
that way which He had pointed out ; and as their 
parents, being advanced in years, and having had 
their horses taken away, were unable to go so far as 
the meeting-house, wmich w 7 as about four miles dis- 
tant, they sometimes had to walk the wdiole distance 
without any male attendant, in the very height of the 
commotions. And though they went by the usual 
public road, not being easy to seek a more private 
way, and thus had to pass through the midst of the 
very people who had threatened them, yet they were 
preserved from injury. On one occasion, after being 
more than usually threatened, the protection afforded 
them seemed very remarkable ; for they were escort- 
ed, voluntarily, for several miles, by a dog with wmich 
they were entirely unacquainted, and which left them 
on seeing them safe at their own home. 

Friends generally of this meeting were threatened 
with the flames; their meeting-house was to be 
converted into a Popish chapel ; and a blunderbuss 
was presented at one Friend, in order to deter him 
from attending the meeting ; but Friends remained 
firm ; very few were deterred from the fulfilment of 
this duty ; and on the very evening before the meet- 
ing-day when so many were to be devoted to destruc- 
tion, and their houses to the flames, the power of the 
insurgents was broken by a decisive battle on Vine- 
gar Hill ; and during the meeting the next morning, 
many of these misguided people, instead of coming 
to destroy, actually sought the meeting-house as an 
asylum of safety to themselves. 

The Friends of Cooladine and Enniscorthy were 
menaced in like manner with those of Forrest. ; but 
though some of them had to lament the loss of their 

33 



382 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1798. 

property, and even the destruction of their houses, 
yet the threats of personal violence to them were 
found to be impotent, and their lives were provi- 
dentially preserved. 

At the time of the Monthly Meeting at Enniscorthy, 
the house was put in preparation to be fired, and some 
of these malicious persons were actually in the gal- 
leries at the time when Friends assembled ; but after 
a while they went away without doing injury. At 
the Leinster Quarterly Meeting also, held at the same 
place, many Friends assembled from distant parts ; 
though at the time it seemed almost impossible to 
accomplish it, and several of them had to pass 
through heaps of slain on the road, and were obliged 
to remove the dead bodies out of the way, that they 
might not trample upon them ; a great slaughter hav- 
ing occurred at the battle of Vinegar Hill, a day or 
two before. 

An aged Friend had his house entered by the insur- 
gents, who required him to undergo the Popish cere- 
mony of water baptism ; and on his refusal, threaten- 
ed him with certain death. On their afterwards re- 
turning and repeating the demand, he still firmly re- 
fused. A third time, they demanded his compliance, 
and he still refusing to sacrifice his peace by comply- 
ing with their desires, they told him that they were 
now resolved to hang him before they left the house, 
if he did not comply. They accordingly fastened a 
rope around his neck, took him to an out-house on 
his premises, and were in the act of fastening the 
rope to a joist for the completion of their wicked 
design, when a sudden alarm of the approach of sol- 
diery scattered them, and his life was preserved. 

Friends in the county of Westmeath witnessed 
many heart-rending scenes, some of them living in 
solitary places, surrounded by the insurgents, and 
not feeling themselves at liberty to follow the exam- 
ple and persuasions of their Protestant neighbours, in 
fleeing from their habitations to the garrison-towns. 



1798.] THE SOCIETY OF FHIENDS. 383 

But being favoured with faith and patience to abide 
in their lots, and conscientiously adhering to their 
principles, they experienced the name of the Lord to 
be a strong tower, in which they found safety. 

Friends residing in the county of Kildare, though 
they were often in danger, escaped personal injury 
from either party. The country people generally 
spoke well of them, appearing to be sensible that 
though they would not join them, neither would they 
on the other hand take part against them. When 
the military came to quell the insurrection, the Popish 
priest ran to borrow a Friend's coat, to disguise him- 
self, and thus save his life. Many respectable per- 
sons of the county of Wexford, on the evening of the 
battle of Ross, apprehending themselves not secure 
in their own houses, flocked with their families into 
those of Friends, and some of these belonging to an 
armed association, and clad in military garb, readily 
acquiesced in the remonstrances of the peaceful pro- 
prietors, and assumed a dress in this time of fear, of 
a more peaceable appearance. Thus was protection 
often witnessed in a wonderful manner to the Society 
of Friends, as had been foretold by several of their 
ministers some years before, and the prediction of 
one in particular was literally fulfilled, who was 
heard to declare in gospel authority, that " in a time 
of trial which was approaching, if Friends kept their 
places, many would be glad to take shelter under the 
skirts of their garments." 

A Protestant minister near Enniscorthy, seeing the 
danger approaching, requested that, the clothes of a 
Friend might be given to him, hoping that in such 
a dress he might be preserved, or might effect his 
escape. But it was remarked, that such a disguise 
could be of no advantage ; and he hid himself by the 
river side, where he was soon afterwards found and 
murdered. 

Some circumstances connected with the battle of 
Antrim are worthy of record. The regular army 



384 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1798. 

was not able to make a stand against their oppo- 
nents ; and when it was found that the latter were 
likely to enter the town, the inhabitants were direct- 
ed to close their doors and windows, and a general 
dismay spread itself among them/ There was a 
family of Friends residing in the town, consisting of 
a very young man and his sisters, whose father was 
then travelling in America in the service of the gos- 
pel. At the time of his preparing to leave Ireland 
for that purpose, a fellow- minister was led into pub- 
lic supplication, in the Quarterly Meeting, for his pre- 
servation and safe return, and expressed a belief that 
during his absence the sword would be near his 
house, and the dead bodies lying in the streets, but 
no harm should befall his family, for the Lord would 
encamp about them, and preserve them as in the 
hollow of His hand. This was now literally accom- 
plished. At the time of the battle, the family de- 
signed staying in their house; but when they found 
that the action had commenced, and that the cannon 
was placed directly opposite their door, thus ex- 
posing the house to imminent danger, they thought of 
taking refuge in the fields. This however they found 
was impracticable, from the dense crowd of people 
around their house, as the heat of the action was in 
that spot. Jn a very short time, the insurgents be- 
came masters of the town, cutting off about one- 
third of the soldiery opposed to them ; but their vic- 
tory was of short duration ; for a reinforcement 
arriving, they were dispersed, and the town retaken. 
This family during the battle had taken in a poor 
wounded man of the insurrectionary party, and 
afforded him what assistance was in their power ; 
but when the firing had almost ceased, they urged the 
propriety of his endeavouring to escape, both for his 
own safety and theirs. He had scarcely quitted the 
premises when a body of soldiers knocked furiously 
at the door, demanded immediate entrance, and in- 
sisted on knowing whether any strangers were in the 



1798.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 385 

house. Some were for going up stairs to search ; 
but one of the officers observed, that " the Quakers 
were people that would not tell a lie — that their 
word might be taken — and if any strangers were 
there, it would not be denied." The behaviour of 
the soldiers now became civil, and they brought in 
a fatally wounded man of their own party, to re- 
ceive their kind attentions, and promised them pro- 
tection. After the battle, the town presented an 
awful spectacle — dead bodies of men and horses 
lying in the blood-stained streets — and the people 
here and there saluting their neighbours, as those 
who had survived a pestilence or an earthquake. 
For several days the inhabitants were kept in con- 
stant alarm, and the part of the town where this 
family resided, being a suspected district, was order- 
ed by the soldiery to be burned. But while the com- 
manding officer was riding up the street to give the 
orders, one of the sisters ventured through the crowd 
towards him, and simply asked him if their house 
was to share the same dismal fate. He gave her an 
assurance of protection to them, and without their 
knowledge, a yeoman was placed as a guard at their 
door, while the work of destruction was going on. 
They were afterwards also remarkably saved from 
the common fate of the inhabitants, of being plunder- 
ed by the soldiery. 

It was not known that during the whole of this 
gloomy season of anarchy and destruction, the So- 
ciety of Friends lost more than one of its members 
by the violence of war. And this was a young man 
who had deviated from their principles, in a faithful ad- 
herence to which, his brethren in profession were so 
wonderfully preserved. This youth, apprehending 
that he could find no safety for his life but by out- 
ward means of defence, resolved to put on a military 
uniform, and to associate with armed men. Telling 
his connexions that they would all be murdered, if 
they remained in the country in so defenceless a 

*33 



386 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1798. 

state, he fled to a neighbouring garrison-town. But 
this very place was attacked and taken ; the door of 
the house where he had been firing from a window, 
was forced open by the enraged enemy ; and though, 
in terror for his life, he sought concealment in the 
chimney of an upper chamber, he was discovered 
and put to death ; furnishing an awful example of the 
sad result of casting away confidence in the protecting 
arm of the Almighty, and bartering the pure principles 
of Christianity for a reliance on the arm of flesh. 

But the follower of a crucified Lord must not 
expect alv/ays to escape from suffering, nor make 
his allegiance depend on a hope of security in this 
life. He may be required at times even to offer 
up his natural life, as a seal to his testimony for a 
good conscience. At Kilbroney, in the county of 
Wexford, were two brothers, named John and Samuel 
Jones: neither of whom w 7 as ever in membership 
with Friends, but the latter had attended their meet- 
ings, and was attached to their principles. The fol- 
lowing affecting circumstances will scarcely be de- 
nied to entitle them (particularly the younger) to the 
name of Christian martyrs. 

Samuel was of a meek and gentle spirit, and re- 
marked for the benevolence of his disposition. He 
had of late become increasingly serious, and ex- 
pressed on different occasions an apprehension of 
being shortly taken away. The two brothers were 
taken prisoners by the insurgents, conveyed to Scul- 
labogue, and confined in a house close to a barn, in 
which a few days afterwards, a large number of 
their fellow- creatures, men, women, and children, 
were horribly burnt to death. Upwards of two hun- 
dred were massacred in this way, and by shooting 
them in the adjacent law r n. John Jones, the elder 
brother, was now brought into a close searching of 
heart, and found cause to lament that in time past he 
had not sought after a preparation for death; but was 
encouraged by his brother to faithfulness. Samuel's 



1798.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 387 

wife was permitted to accompany them to their pri- 
son ; and on the morning of the day when the barn 
was burnt, as they were reading the New Testament, 
she inquired of one of the guards, the cause of the 
peculiar smell, which she perceived, like burning 
animal matter. He coolly told her, it was some beef- 
steaks preparing for breakfast ! To a further inquiry, 
" What was meant by the firing of guns V he replied 
" that it was some criminals they were shooting." 
About five minutes after this, the three were taken 
from the prison into the lawn, and Samuel was re- 
quired to turn to the Romish religion. He replied, 
" Where shall I turn, but where my God is s" And 
being urged to have his children undergo the cere- 
mony of water-baptism, he said, "My children are 
innocent ; and I will leave them so." Some person 
now saying that these prisoners " were Quakers," it 
was replied that if they could make it appear that 
they were so, they should not be put to death. But 
as they were neither of them really members, this 
could not be done. Some of them now took Samuel 
aside, and offered him his life on certain conditions ; 
but finding these to conflict with his sense of religious 
duty, he firmly rejected them ; and when the " holy 
water," as they termed it, was brought to them, he 
turned his back upon it, in testimony against their 
bigotry. 

He encouraged his brother John to faithfulness to 
the last, fearing lest his stedfastness might give way; 
and reminded him of the words of our blessed 
Saviour, " Whosoever shall deny me before men, 
him will I also deny before my Father which is in 
heaven ;" and " he that findeth his life shall lose it ; 
and he that loseth his life for my sake, shall find it." 
John was then shot by the insurgents. Samuel de- 
sired his love to be given to certain Friends, whom 
he named ; but the party endeavoured to work upon 
his feelings, by falsely asserting that they had already 
forfeited their lives at the camp. To this however 



S88 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1798. 

he meekly replied, " then they died innocent." He 
now took an affectionate leave of his wife, who with 
admirable fortitude stood by him and held his hand, 
until he was shot by the side of his brother. His last 
words were those with which he had endeavoured to 
encourage his brother, and which now afforded in- 
expressible support to himself; " He that loseth his 
life for My sake, shall find it." 



CHAPTER XLIV. 

THE SEPARATION IN IRELAND, IN 1799, ETC. 

Although many were thus faithful in 
their testimony to the peaceable nature of the Gospel, 
during a season of sore trial, yet there were at this 
time in various parts of the nation, those under our 
name who had imbibed more or less of a sceptical 
and self-righteous spirit. These deluding themselves 
and others by false pretentions to spirituality, and 
greater light on religious subjects than their brethren 
in that or former ages, began to promulgate many 
wild and unsound notions relative to certain import- 
ant doctrines of the Christian religion. Inflated by a 
fond conceit of their own attainments, and by the 
presumptuous idea that they possessed the plena- 
ry inspiration of the Spirit, and therefore needed not 
the fainter light of external evidence, they boldly re- 
jected a large portion of the sacred volume, renounced 
the epithet, " Holy," as applied to the Scriptures, and 
set up in their stead the wild vagaries of their own 
feverish imaginations. They strenuously advocated 
the propriety of bringing every subject to the test of 
reason ; and deciding on its credibility, by its accord- 
ance with their ideas of what such a Being as they 



1799.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 389 

chose to consider the Creator, ought to require of his 
rational creatures. But while they were high in pro- 
fession of " rational belief," they adopted and openly 
professed many absurd and extravagant notions. 

Discontented and restless in themselves, and con- 
scious that they were professing to be what the 
Searcher of hearts knew they were not, they seemed 
ready to catch at any novelty, either in faith or prac- 
tice, which promised to make them conspicuous as 
reformers of the Society, or, by occupying their atten- 
tion, to divert them from a sense of their own cor- 
ruptions, and their great need of a change of heart. 
Renouncing the faith of their fathers, and disdaining 
the pure and simple doctrines of Christianity, they 
struck out for themselves a new system ; a primary 
feature of which was, a denial of the truths recorded 
in the Bible, under the specious pretence, that the 
" light within," as they irreverently termed what was 
nothing more than their own fallen reason, or the 
workings of a morbid imagination, had enabled them 
to see beyond all outward evidence. Hence they re- 
jected as untrue, the doctrine of the " eternal power 
and godhead" of our Lord Jesus Christ, his propitia- 
tory sacrifice on the cross for the sins of mankind, his 
mediation, and his intercession ; regarding him in no 
higher point of view, than as a blessed example and 
holy pattern. Indeed, with the confidence which they 
had in their own righteousness, it was impossible that 
they should believe in a necessity of His atonement 
for their sins. Not satisfied with the clear and sublime 
account written by Moses, of the creation of the 
world, they declared it an allegory : they mysticised 
the description of the garden of Eden into a mere 
metaphorical account of the human heart and its pro- 
pensities, asserting that it was never intended to be 
construed literally : and by the same method they 
evaded the force of other parts of the Bible, which 
did not comport with their own notions. 

Conceiving that no act connected with religion was 



390 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1799. 

obligatory upon them without a special and immedi- 
ate impulse of duty, they declined the salutary prac- 
tice of observing the First-day of the week as a day 
of rest and religious exercises, pursued their usual 
avocations, and refused to assemble at stated times 
for the purpose of Divine worship ; only attending 
when they considered themselves particularly moved 
thereto, which would sometimes happen to be at the 
time the assembly were about to separate. 

Against the consistent members of the Society of 
Friends, they inveighed with much acrimony and zeal, 
as formal, traditional, and lapsed professors, resting in 
the commandments of their fathers, and adding there- 
to the superstitions and corruptions of other religious 
societies. The excellent code of discipline which for 
many years had proved a means of preservation and 
strength to the church, they became dissatisfied with, 
wishing to remove all restraints, and leave every 
man at liberty to ''do that which was right in his 
own eyes." 

About this time, Hannah Barnard, of Hudson in the 
state of New York, who occupied the station of a 
minister, opened to her Monthly Meeting a desire to 
visit Great Britain and Ireland. Friends of that place, 
though probably in some degree influenced by affec- 
tionate feelings in her behalf, yet appear to have felt 
unusual hesitation on the subject ; the matter being 
referred to a committee, in whose hands it remained 
about nine months, before they could report in favour 
of granting the usual credentials. They were how- 
ever at length, partly by earnest appeals to the affec- 
tions of the young and inexperienced members, in- 
duced to set her at liberty, in the latter part of the 
Eighth month, 1797, and she sailed for Europe. 

Travelling in Ireland, her discourses public and pri- 
vate, though artfully disguised for a time, were calcu- 
lated to foster this spirit of insubordination, and even 
eventually of unbelief; and she was eagerly followed 



1799.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 391 

by those who were already more or less under its 
influence. 

At the next Yearly Meeting in Dublin, this sorrow- 
ful subject claimed the serious attention of the body ; 
which directed the Monthly Meetings timely to 
labour in Christian love and tenderness, for the resto- 
ration of these deluded persons ; and where they 
could not be reclaimed, they were, with the advice of 
the Quarterly Meetings, to be testified against, as out 
of the unity of Friends. The Yearly Meeting also 
appointed a committee to visit the Quarterly, Month- 
ly, and other Meetings, to assist them with advice and 
counsel in the trying circumstances under which 
many of them were placed. The appointment of this 
committee struck dismay into the ranks of the dissenti- 
ents, as they saw that it rendered their prospect of 
carrying their own measures entirely hopeless. 

David Sands, a valuable minister from the state of 
New York, before mentioned, who had arrived in 
Great Britain in 1 795, had been drawn in the love of 
Christ to visit Ireland ; and being led into very plain 
dealing among them, in imparting the whole counsel 
of his Divine Master, he became a principal mark for 
their enmity. Many of them refused to acknowledge 
his ministry by uniting in the usual orderly practice 
of standing up and taking off the hat, while he was 
engaged in meetings for worship in the solemn act of 
addressing the Most High. 

Richard Jordan also, of North Carolina, a fellow- 
labourer in the same glorious gospel, was moved at 
that juncture to visit the afflicted Society in Ireland ; 
and is believed to have been eminently useful in 
strengthening the weak hands of those who were 
faithfully opposing this spirit of unbelief and disorder, 
and in confirming the feeble faith of some, who were 
ready to falter under the plausible appearances which 
were presented. He bore a solemn and powerful 
testimony against the dangerous tendency of this 
delusion ; he laboured with undaunted zeal to expose 



392 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1799. 

its fallacies; he warned both young and old against 
suffering themselves to be entangled therein ; and 
under the influence of a prophetic spirit, he foretold the 
sorrowful consequences which these errors, «f per- 
sisted in, would inevitably produce. 

But notwithstanding the earnest labours of many 
deeply concerned Friends, the leaders of this seces- 
sion continued their course, until many lost their 
membership in the Society. In the province of Uls- 
ter, all the elders were displaced from their station ; 
and a considerable number of ministers and elders in 
various parts were disowned from membership. Han- 
nah Barnard, notwithstanding the private labour 
which had been abundantly bestowed upon her, at 
length so openly avowed her unbelief in the divinity 
and atonement of the blessed Saviour, and the authen- 
ticity of the Holy Scriptures, that on her leaving Ire- 
land, in the spring of 1800, she was called to account 
before the Yearly Meeting of Ministers and Elder's 
in London, for her unsound doctrines, discouraged 
from continuing to travel as a minister, and advised 
to return home. 

The committee of the Yearly Meeting of Dublin to 
visit and aid the subordinate meetings, was re-ap- 
pointed each year until 1802, when the painful duty 
of separating from the body those who persisted in 
adhesion to this heresy, appeared to be nearly com- 
pleted, and the Society clear from responsibility for 
their errors. The hand of Divine Providence seemed 
to be turned in an awful manner against these deniers 
of the Divinity of the Lord Jesus ; so that the predic- 
tions of Richard Jordan and others were remarkably 
verified. Some of them who had lived in affluence, 
experienced a sad reverse in their condition ; many 
not only lost their religious reputation, but even suf- 
fered in their moral character, and became an aston- 
ishment to their former acquaintances. Others, how- 
ever, awakened by timely warning, abandoned their 
errors, and through the mercy of a gracious Redeem- 



1802.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 393 

er, came to experience repentance and forgiveness : 
these embraced the Christian religion in renewed 
faith and sincerity, and were restored into the fellow- 
ship of the church. 

Hannah Barnard, not complying with the admo- 
nitions of the Yearly Meeting of Ministers and Elders 
in London, her case was brought into the Monthly- 
Meeting of Devonshire House in that city, which 
also, after examination, advised her to return home. 
She was not willing to take this advice, and finally 
appealed to the Yearly Meeting in 1801 ; which, after 
a patient investigation of the case, confirmed the 
advice of the Monthly Meeting. On her return, 
her own Monthly Meeting being apprized of her un- 
soundness, she was, after ineffectual attempts to 
reclaim her, at length disowned by Friends, and sunk 
into obscurity. 



CHAPTER XLV. 



THOMAS SHILLITOE's EARLY LIFE AND CONVINCEMENT HIS 

REMARKABLE GOSPEL LABOURS IN IRELAND, ETC. 

One of the most remarkable men who joined the 
Society in modern days, was Thomas Shillitoe. He- 
was born in London, in the year 1754, and educated 
according to the views of the Episcopal society, of 
which his parents were zealous members. From 
about the twelfth year of his age, he was exposed to 
many temptations. His father taking charge of a 
large tavern at Islington, in the suburbs of that great 
city, Thomas, whose disposition was naturally vola- 
tile, was exposed to the contamination of evil exam- 
ples in almost every kind of vice. He was afterwards 
placed as apprentice with a person much given to 

34 



394 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1772. 

liquor and unprofitable company ; so that his situation 
continued to be one of great danger. But, though 
thus exposed, adorable mercy awakened in his mind 
a degree of serious thoughtfulness, which no doubt 
preserved him from many gross evjls. Growing up 
towards manhood, he occasionally attended the meet- 
ings of Friends with a young relative ; but this was 
not from a pure motive, and did not appear to be pro- 
ductive at that time of much effect on his mind. He 
generally spent the afternoon of the First-day of the 
week in idleness and rambling about for pleasure, 
giving greater latitude than ever to his natural incli- 
nations. But the retrospect of this, in times of serious 
reflection, was not productive of that comfort which 
he had once known, when this day of the week had 
been differently occupied. He was, however, merci- 
fully again visited by the reproofs of the Holy Spirit, 
and his attention arrested, to consider the misery into 
which the road he was now travelling must eventually 
lead him, if he continued to pursue it. He found he 
must now attend meetings for worship from a sense 
of religious obligation, and that too both morning and 
afternoon; and as he faithfully gave up to this duty, 
his desires increased after an acquaintance with the 
Almighty, and a knowledge of His law. Earnest 
w T ere his prayers, that in this day of the Lord's pow- 
erful visitation, in mercy renewed to his soul, the 
Father of all grace would not leave him to become a 
prey to his soul's enemy — that His hand would not 
spare, nor his eye pity, until an entire willingness was 
brought about in him, to cast himself down at the 
Lord's holy footstool. As resignation was thus pro- 
duced in him, to yield to the purifying operation of 
the Holy Ghost and fire, that the fan of God's Word 
and power should separate between the precious and 
the vile, corresponding fruits were brought forth, and 
manifested in his outward conduct. 

His father showed great displeasure at his attend- 
ing the meetings of Friends, and endeavoured to dis- 



1775.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 395 

suade him therefrom, representing the Society in as 
unfavourable and ridiculous a point of view as he 
could ; but without effect. Thomas soon felt that it 
would be right for him to use the pure language of 
thou and thee, instead of you, to a single person, and 
to refuse to conform to the vain compliments of the 
world. During the mental exercises which he passed 
through on this account, he fell under much discour- 
agement ; especially when his father told him that he 
must quit his paternal abode, and go among those 
with whom he had associated in religious profession. 
But in this season of close trial, he was not deserted 
by Him who cares even for the sparrows. A situa- 
tion was procured for him as clerk in a banking- 
house. Here he entertained a hope of being out of 
the way of much temptation ; but alas ! he soon found 
his mistake ; and that no situation was safe, without 
maintaining the daily, unremitted watch. Very few 
of his new companions w T ere acquainted with that 
inward work of religion which he so greatly desired, 
many of them being much given up to the world and 
its delusive pleasures. For want of keeping steadily 
on the watch, he had nearly made shipwreck of faith. 
But the mercy of God snatched him again as a brand 
out of the burning, and pointed out to him the need of 
increasing circumspection. 

The business of his employers required him at 
times to purchase lottery tickets for country corres- 
pondents, and to attend to some other matters which 
he felt a scruple against ; and this brought him under 
fresh trial, desiring to retain a situation in which he 
was making a respectable livelihood, and yet not 
feeling easy to continue in the practice of that which 
was manifested to him to be wrong. But submissively 
seeking divine direction, he was enabled clearly to 
see that he must settle down to that manner of obtain- 
ing his livelihood, which Truth would point out to 
him. And crying unto the Lord, in earnest prayer, 
that He would be pleased to direct him, the Most 



896 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1778. 

High in mercy heard his cries, and answered his sup- 
plications, pointing out to him the humble business of 
a shoemaker, as the means by which he should here- 
after gain a living more consistently with his religious 
scruples. This intimation at first, involved him in 
great distress of mind ; partly from the fear lest he 
should not soon be able to earn enough to supply him- 
self with what was necessary for his sustenance, as he 
had saved but little from his present salary. But leav- 
ing his employers, he engaged with a person to teach 
him the business, and trusted to the Lord for preserva- 
tion. Great were the trials to which for a time he 
was subjected ; his little stock of money wasted fast ; 
and his earnings, over what he had to pay his in- 
structor,- were so very small as not to allow him for 
the first twelve months, more than bread, cheese and 
water, and sometimes bread only, to keep clear of 
debt ; and this he carefully avoided. 

After he had acquired sufficient knowledge of the 
business, he commenced on his own account, with a 
capital of a few shillings. His prospects brightened ; 
his business prospered; and in 1778 he entered into 
the married state, under the sanction and guidance, as 
he believed, of Him who had thus far mercifully 
cared for him. 

For some time his mind had been exercised with 
a belief, that if he co#inued faithful to divine requir- 
ings, a gift in the ministry of the gospel would be 
committed to his charge. Earnest were his secret 
cries for the Lord's preservation, under the prospect of 
this awful work — to be kept, on the one hand, from 
running before he was sent, and on the other, from 
overstaying the right time, when the command should 
be distinctly heard, "Go forth." 

About the 24th year of his age, he first opened his 
mouth as a minister of the gospel, and was favoured 
with great peace for this act of dedication. But he 
soon found, to his sorrow, that Satan can transform 
himself into an angel of light ; and when he cannot 



1793.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. S97 

effect his evil purpose, by causing us to lag behind, he 
will then strive to hurry us on before our good Guide, 
and thus in one way or the other endeavour to mar 
the Lord's work. From this snare, however, he was 
favoured to recover himself; and as he humbly fol- 
lowed the puttings forth of the heavenly finger, look- 
ing neither to the right hand nor to the left, he grew 
in his gift, and increased in understanding of the 
things of God ; and for many years was employed by 
his divine Master, in strengthening and confirming the 
churches, in various places, at a distance from his 
own abode. 

Before undertaking some of these religious engage- 
ments, he was at times much discouraged, from fears 
lest his outward concerns should sutler during his 
absence; as he had no experienced person under 
whose superintendence to leave them. On one occa- 
sion these discouragements were presented, if pos- 
sible, with double force ; but as he yielded to the 
influence of divine help, the power of the Al- 
mighty was mercifully manifested, his mind was 
tendered under its influence, and he heard in the 
secret of his soul, intelligibly addressed to his men- 
tal ear, the following language : " I will be more 
than bolts and bars to thy outward habitation — more 
than a master to thy servants — more than a husband 
to thy wife, and a parent to thy infant children. " 
Thus was his faith confirmed ; he no longer dared to 
hesitate, but proceeded on his Master's mission ; and 
on returning home, he found his outward concerns in 
as good order as if he had himself had the manage- 
ment of them during the interim. 

In the year 1793, he apprehended it to be his duty 
to pay a religious visit to King George the Third. 
The interview proved satisfactory, and that which he 
communicated, appeared to be well received. The 
king stood in a solid manner during its delivery, and 
was so much affected that the tears trickled down his 
cheeks. 

*34 



398 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1808. 

About the year 1805, having been so far favoured 
with success in trade, as to have saved an income of 
about one hundred pounds a year, he was not easy to 
go on accumulating ; but under a sense of duty, relin- 
quished his business, and devoted himself more fully 
to the work to which he had been called of God, for the 
benefit of his fellow-men. He often felt himself con- 
strained to address those in power, on the great preva- 
lence of vice and irreligion among the people; and some 
of these addresses were very close and striking. It 
also pleased his Divine Master to lay upon him the 
duty of visiting the most depraved and abandoned of 
the human family, and of warning and pleading with 
those who were either encouraging or conniving at 
their evil practices. 

In his travels, especially in Ireland, he beheld with 
sorrow the great number of places where ardent 
spirits were sold, the crowds of persons who fre- 
quented them, and the degrading and brutalizing 
effects produced by this pernicious article, particularly 
on the lower classes ; subverting every thing like a 
sense of religion, destroying the physical and mental 
powers, and involving its victims in squalid wretched- 
ness and poverty. He had not long witnessed the 
misery produced by these drinking houses, before he 
felt constrained to visit the keepers of them in certain 
parts, and to plead personally with them and their 
visiters against their evil practices ; notwithstanding 
the prospect, at times realized, of meeting with insult 
and abuse. 

The first visit of this kind was in the town of 
Waterford, in company with Elizabeth Ridgway, a 
Friend who had a similar religious concern. Their 
service was not confined to the keepers of the houses, 
but frequently extended to the company sitting in 
them to drink ; who mostly behaved respectfully, and 
heard quietly what they had to offer. Yet they met 
with a few instances of the contrary, and some of the 
remarks made, as well as the crowd that followed 



1808.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 399 

them from house to house, were very humiliating. 
But as they endeavoured to keep near in spirit to their 
Holy Helper, they were strengthened in an admirable 
manner, to go through the service, and to deliver 
" all the counsel of God" among those dark spirits, 
settled down apparently in gross superstition and ii-no- 
rance. Even among these, they often found a door 
of entrance for the gospel message, and returned home 
at length, with hearts truly contrited, under a fresh 
sense that all things are possible with the Most High. 
Soon afterwards he felt it his duty to visit the drink- 
ing-houses at Carrick-on-Suir, and Ross, in company 
with the same female friend. On entering Carrick, 
they became the subjects of much remark. They 
generally found both houses and hearts open to receive 
them and what they had to communicate. They 
were followed from house to house by crowds of 
people. Thomas's account states, that "although the 
houses would be so filled, that there did not appear to 
be room for another to squeeze in, yet quietness soon 
prevailed, and was in a remarkable manner preserved, 
especially whilst we were engaged in delivering our 
message. Truly we may say this was the Lord's doino;; 
and that we were able to attain to any quiet in ourselves 
is marvellous in our eyes. By endeavouring to keep in 
the patience, and to have our minds clothed with that 
love which would have all gathered, taking quietly 
such insults as were oH'ered, and any opposition to 
what we had to communicate, the veil of prejudice 
would generally give way : love would beget love, 
and make way for free and open communication." 
" .Sometimes, on entering a house, we found persons 
in a state of intoxication. Their companions, aware 
of our errand, boasted they would have liquor, calling 
out for lar^e quantities. But on our appearing not 
to notice them, but to take our seats quietly amongst 
them, others would take pains to keep them still, and 
in time, all has been hushed into silence, as much so 
as I have known in our own meetings." 



400 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1810. 

In 1810, he again felt it his duty to visit Ireland. 
Soon after arriving there, he engaged in visiting the 
drinking-houses at Clonmel and several other towns. 
A few extracts from his own account of these visits, 
will furnish some idea of their trying character, as 
well as of the marvellous manner in which he was 
helped to perform them. In speaking of the visit at 
Clonmel, he says : " My companion used often to say, 
it seemed as if the Good Master went into the houses 
before us to prepare the way. Such were the feel- 
ings of solemnity we met with on entering the houses, 
and when sitting with the keepers of them, and their 
customers, that at times it seemed much like paying 
a family visit among Friends. 

" At ('alien, the crowd that gathered around us was 
very interrupting, and they behaved in an uncivilized 
manner ; yet my mind was preserved quiet, feeling 
the necessity of letting them see that my dependence 
w T as placed on the Supreme All-powerful Preserver of 
the universe. ,, In some of the towns, w T hose inhabi- 
tants were principally Papists, bigotry and supersti- 
tion prevailed to a very great extent; and the priests 
had endeavoured to prejudice the people against them. 
After concluding the visits to the drinking-houses, it 
was his practice to visit either the magistrates, or the 
bishops and priests ; and sometimes he did not feel 
clear until he had faithfully spoken to all. 

The following account of one of these interviews, 
will furnish an example of the uncompromising man- 
ner in which he spoke what he believed was required 
of him. " On our arrival at the house, we were or- 
dered up stairs, where the bishop received us with 
great civility, ushered us into a room, brought me a 
chair, placing it opposite to a sofa, on which he took 
his seat. My companions taking seats also, we drop- 
ped into silence ; which I broke by saying, a visit had 
been paid to the drinking-houses in Kilkenny, which 
I supposed he had been acquainted with : to which he 
replied, ' Well.' I observed, that in performing this 



1810.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 401 

visit, my fears, and the various reports I had heard, 
were fully confirmed ; that the * laity' profess to be- 
lieve the ' clergy' have full power to forgive their sins; 
adding, the people may be so deceived as to believe 
the priest has this power, but I did not believe it pos- 
sible the ' clergy' could believe it themselves. And 
therefore, as their superior, to whom the people 
were taught to look up for counsel. I desired he would 
look to the Almighty for help, and as he valued his 
own precious soul, as ability was afforded him, endea- 
vour to turn the minds of the people from man unto 
God and Christ Jesus, who only can forgive sins : 
otherwise he would incur a load of condemnation too 
heavy for him to bear in the great day of account, 
when the deceiver and the deceived would be 
all one in the sight of God, whether actively or pas- 
sively deceiving the people. That at times, when 
considering the subject, it was my belief that if the 
Almighty had one vial of wrath more powerful than 
another, it would be poured out upon those who thus 
deceived the people. Here I closed for the present. 
He manifested great confusion, shutting his eyes, as 
not being able to look me in the face. A pause en- 
sued. After a while, he began by saying, it was 
very indecorous and unchristian in me to come to his 
house, a stranger to him, and from another land, and 
address him in such a manner ; charging him, a man 
of so much experience in the church of God, with 
being a deceiver ; saying, surely I must be mistaken. 
I told him, it was in love to his soul, and under an 
apprehension of religious duty. He called upon me 
to produce my authority for my mission. I told him, 
my authority was in my own breast. I queried with 
him; < Are not the people thus deceived? Do they 
not believe the ' clergy' have power to forgive their 
sins? Art thou endeavouring to undeceive them? 
For the ' clergy' cannot be so deceived as to believe 
this power is vested in them' — exhorting him to be 
willing to co-operate with that Divine help, which, if 



402 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1811. 

rightly sought after by him, would be extended ; 
whereby ability would be received to undeceive the 
people ; again reminding him, that the deceiver and 
deceived were all one in the sight of God ; and that 
it continued my firm belief, if the Almigbty had one 
vial of His wrath more powerful than another, it 
would be poured out on those who thus deceived the 
people, whether actively or passively engaged therein. 
He said he believed I meant well, and that he com- 
mended my principles, but he could not say he thank- 
ed me for my visit. I expected at times he would turn 
me out of the room. We rose from our seats to take 
our leave ; when the bishop clasped my hand, and 
holding it, paused, saying, ' I believe I may say, I feel 
thankful for it' (the visit). Requesting us to take 
some refreshments, he kindly conducted us to the 
stairs again, and we parted, never more to meet on 
this side of eternity." 

In the year 1811, Thomas Shillitoe was again en- 
gaged, still more extensively, in visiting the drinking- 
houses in some of those cities and towns in Ireland, 
which had before been omitted. In these, as at other 
times, he was concerned, not only to set before them 
the evil consequences of taking strong drink, but also 
to point out to them the sure way of life and salva- 
tion ; with the absolute need there was of ceasing 
from all dependence on man, and of depending simply 
on the Lord alone for salvation. Many insults and 
reproaches were offered to him ; but having an evi- 
dence in his own mind, that he was fulfilling a duty 
laid upon him by his Divine Master, he was carried 
through them all. He had indeed frequently the satis- 
faction of believing that the opportunities were sig- 
nally owned ; great seriousness and solemnity being 
obviously produced in minds often of the most aban- 
doned persons. 

A description of one of the six hundred visits he 
paid to the drinking-houses in the city of Dublin, will 
show the humiliating nature of the service, and the 



1811.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIEXDS. 403 

manner in which he was enabled to warn and exhort 
those whom he met with in those sinks of dissipation 
and vice. He says : " We proceeded to Barrack- 
street. The first house we entered made a deplorable 
appearance. It was very early in the morning ; yet 
we found, on descending the steps into the drin king- 
room, which resembled a cellar, the window-frames 
and glass broken, and several young women, without 
shoes, stockings, or caps, dancing to the fiddle. We 
made towards the room set apart for the keepers of 
the house ; w-here we met with the mistress. Re- 
questing, if she had a husband, to have his company, 
he soon made his appearance. I endeavoured to lay 
before them what arose, although I found it difficult 
to get fairly relieved. The fiddle, and at times the 
screaming of the dancers, was a great interruption. 
The man remained quiet for a short time, and then 
left us, the woman appearing to have the manage- 
ment of the house. What I had to say brought her 
to tears. On inquiry, I found she had children : I 
therefore requested her seriously to consider what 
would be her conclusion respecting the conduct of 
any person who should harbour her children, and suf- 
fer them to go on in such wicked practices as she 
was now encouraging the young girls in under her 
roof, who might be without parents or friends to take 
charge of them ; saying, I did not wish for a hasty 
reply. She confessed she should think they acted a 
cruel part. I therefore entreated her to attend to that 
Divine Monitor in her own breast, which she con- 
fessed she at times witnessed to be near ; which 
would clearly make known to her the necessity to rid 
her house of such company as she now harboured ; 
which would be one way whereby she might hope 
for the Divine blessing on honest endeavours for the 
support of herself and family; otherwise she must 
look for a blast following them every way. She con- 
tinued tender, and at our parting, in a feeling manner 
expressed her desire, that what had been communi- 



404 HISTORICAL MEMOIKS OP [1811. 

cated might be profitably remembered by her. After 
receiving her warm expressions of gratitude, we 
proceeded to leave the house ; but on reaching the 
step of the entrance, my attention was again arrested, 
and 1 found I must be willing to return into the apart- 
ment where the dancing was going forward, and qui- 
etly submit to any insults that might be the result of 
my being found in the way of my duty. On my com- 
panion being informed hereof, he appeared tried as 
well as myself; but I found it would not bring peace 
to our minds to hesitate. We therefore turned back ; 
which the woman of the house observing, came and 
stood by us, I supposed to prevent any rude behaviour 
.that might be offered. I requested the man who had. 
the fiddle to cease playing and take his seat; which 
he complied with ; and those who were dancing to do 
the like, which each one yielded to. The scene ex- 
hibited in different parts of this large room, if it were 
possible fully to describe, would produce a picture of 
as great human depravity and misery, as well can be 
conceived. On a bench near us lay young girls, 
overcome with their night's revelling and drunkenness, 
past being roused by any thing that occurred around 
them ; others, from the same causes, reclining on the 
tables, barely able to raise their heads and open their 
eyes, and altogether incapable of comprehending what 
was going forward. Companies of men and women, 
in boxes, were in other parts of the room drinking. 
Strength was received to utter what was given me ; 
and after I had been sometime engaged in addressing 
this band of human misery, I think I shall not, whilst 
favoured with mental powers, wholly lose sight of 
the distress and horror portrayed in the counte- 
nances of those young women who had ceased their 
dancing. Feeling my mind relieved, and being about to 
depart, such of the company as were equal to it, arose 
from their seats, acknowledging their gratitude for 
the labour that had been extended, and their desire 
that what had been said might not be lost upon 



1812.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 405 

them, and that a blessing might attend us. My back 
was towards the door, and not hearing a footstep of 
those who came in while we were engaged, when we 
turned to go out, I was surprised at the addition made 
to our company. My companion remarked, that it 
appeared as if something brought an awe over their 
minds on entering, and they quietly took their seats, 
and when the seats were full, others sat on the 
ground." 

At the conclusion of these labours, he felt it required 
of him to visit the mayor, sheriff, and police magis- 
trates, as well as the Romish and Protestant bishops, 
endeavouring to lay before the Romish bishop in par- 
ticular, the great responsibility that rested on him, 
from the implicit dependence which the people placed 
on the priesthood, and the sorrowful account those 
will have to give in a future day, who are encourag- 
ing the people in this reliance on themselves, instead 
of turning their attention to Christ within, the hope 
of glory. 

In 1812, Thomas believed it required of him to 
unite with a female minister, in paying a religious 
visit to an organized company of desperate charac- 
ters, who for nearly fifty years had infested the neigh- 
bourhood of Kings wood, in England ; who lived by 
plundering, robbing, horse-stealing, and other evil 
practices ; and were so great a terror to the neigh- 
bourhood, that it was considered dangerous to travel 
on the roads infested by them. In the prosecution of 
this trying service, which extended not only to " the 
Gang," as these robbers were called, but also to the 
families of miners and colliers living in that section 
of country, Thomas and his companion were often 
obliged to travel by night; but they were mercifully 
raised above apprehensions of danger, through faith 
in the protecting care of Him, who, they believed, 
had called them forth. They were favoured from 
time to time, with memorable evidences of the suffi- 
ciency of His almighty power to subdue the strong 
35 



406 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1 820. 

wills, and soften the hard hearts of wicked men. 
While pleading with these abandoned characters re- 
specting their evil practices, they were often made 
sensible that the Divine Witness in their hearts was 
reached: their hearers acknowledged the truth of 
what they had to say, and expressed their obligations 
for the counsel given. 



CHAPTER XLVI. 

THE HERESY OF ELIAS HICKS AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 

In the course of this history, we have seen the 
affliction under which, at various times, the church 
had to lament the successive defection of James 
Nayler, of John Perrot, of Wilkinson and Story, of 
George Keith, and of Hannah Barnard, and their 
colleagues in the work of schism. But sorrowful as 
these lapses were to the faithful standard-bearers, 
they were of very limited extent compared with the 
fearful heresy, by which a large portion of the So- 
ciety in America was torn asunder, in the early part 
of the nineteenth century. 

Various circumstances had, for several years, been 
preparing the way for the introduction of opinions, 
repugnant to the ancient fundamental doctrines of the 
Society, and tending to undermine the basis of true 
Christian fellowship among its members. Lukewarm- 
ness in religion, love of the world, and an eager pur- 
suit of its riches, pleasures and fashions, had intro- 
duced much weakness and dimness, disqualified many 
for usefulness in the church, and greatly eclipsed the 
brightness of our Christian profession, which had 
shone so eminently in the example of the early mem- 
bers of the Society. The restraints of the cross had, 
in many families, ceased to be known; and not a few 



1820.] THE SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 407 

of the young people were left to follow their own cor- 
rupt inclinations, with little sound instruction, and 
less parental control. Many parents, indeed, had en- 
tirely disregarded the wholesome requisitions of the 
discipline, in relation to instructing their children in 
the doctrines and precepts of the Christian religion, 
as held by the Society from the beginning. It had 
pleased the Lord, in His unsearchable wisdom, to 
remove from works to rewards, many eminent ser- 
vants who had stood as faithful watchmen on the 
walls of Zion, clothed with the spirit of discernment, 
and enabled to detect the various stratagems of the 
enemy. 

For a considerable time previous to the year 1820, 
Elias Hicks, who occupied the station of a minister, 
at Jericho on Long Island, had cherished a spirit of 
self confidence, and arrogated to himself a character 
over his brethren for superior attainments. Under 
the plausible guise of refined spirituality, he had ven- 
tured to express, even in the public meetings for 
worship, and still more plainly in private converse, 
opinions tending to weaken the faith of his fellow 
members in the authenticity and divine authority of 
the Holy Scriptures; to destroy a belief in the mira- 
culous birth of the Lord Jesus, in his divinity, and his 
mediation and intercession for man as our Advocate 
with the Father ; and to disparage that most accept- 
able sacrifice, which he made of himself on the cross 
for the sins of the whole world. Some others who 
stood in the station of ministers, were through un- 
watchfulness captivated by this spirit of unbelief, and 
became active with him in disseminating their dan- 
gerous scepticism. They began to court the favour 
of inexperienced and unwary youth, puffing them up 
with high notions of their own independence and im- 
portance, declaring that their elder brethren were 
resting in the traditions of their fathers, and urging 
the young people to go before them, to take the lead 
in the Society, and " carry on the work of reforma- 



408 HISTORICAL MEMOIBS OF [1822. 

tion." Great numbers of these were caught by this 
plausible spirit ; a forward disposition took the place 
of the natural diffidence of youth ; and many became 
very active and noisy in meetings for discipline, to 
the great grief of the solid faithful members. Nor 
were these evil fruits of unbelief confined to the 
young ; but many of riper age imbibed the same poi- 
sonous opinions, and thus the Society was thrown 
into a state of unsettlement and distress. 

The poison thus insidiously introduced was spread 
still wider through the body, by the mistaken fear of 
some, who, though they did not themselves perhaps 
partake of these unsound views, yet not being fully 
awake to their blighting nature, were afraid of any 
step, that by developing the threatening danger might 
disturb the outward harmony, which, notwithstand- 
ing the basis of true unity had been thus assailed, still 
held an influence over the church, and furnished the 
lovers of ease with a plea for fallacious security. 
Thus, instead of that evil weed being checked on its 
first appearance, its presence in the church was 
covered over by the spirit of a false charity in many, 
and opportunity was thus given for the wide, though 
silent, scattering of its baneful seeds. 

Elias Hicks nevertheless was faithfully warned, 
from time to time, of the sad consequences which 
would result to the church from the course he was 
pursuing, but in vain. He declared he should per- 
severe, " let the consequences be what they might;" 
and gradually became bolder in developing his true 
sentiments ; speaking lightly of the Holy Scriptures, 
and denying that our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus 
Christ was anything more than a Saviour of the 
Jews, and a pattern or example for us. 

In the Twelfth Month 1822, he came to Philadel- 
phia with certificates from his Monthly and Quar- 
terly Meetings, in which his party had at that time 
the reins of power. His unsound opinions were 
known to many Friends there, and some of the 



1922.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 409 

elders being informed, that at a meeting in the South- 
ern Quarterly Meeting, he had publicly advocated 
such sentiments, two of them called on him on his 
arrival in Philadelphia, for the purpose of procuring 
an investigation of the case. Twice he refused to 
accede to their proposal of an interview ; and at 
length having submitted to meet them, he defeated 
the intention, by encouraging a number of his adher- 
ents to intrude themselves into the company. The 
elders after this addressed him by letter, declaring 
their disunity with his conduct, and with the doc- 
trines he was charged with promulgating ; and in- 
formed him that having himself closed the door 
against their brotherly care and endeavours for his 
benefit, and for the clearing of our religious profes- 
sion, they thought the subject ought to claim the 
weighty attention of his Friends at home. 

From this period may be dated the regular organi- 
zation of a party devoted to his interests. Unfounded 
misrepresentations were industriously spread through 
the Society, tp create a prejudice against those who 
could not conscientiously approve his conduct and 
anti-christian views, especially against Friends of 
Philadelphia, who openly avowed their disunity with 
him. Much animosity was kindled in the restless 
spirits of his adherents, whose conduct gave ample 
evidence of the disorganizing tendency of his doc- 
trines. The Meeting for SutFerings in Philadelphia, 
had thought it right to disclaim, in the name of the 
Society, certain pieces which had appeared in print, 
containing sentiments incompatible with the ancient 
doctrines of Friends, though professing to be written 
on its behalf; and prepared some selections from the 
w r orks of the early Friends, for distribution among 
the members of the Society, to remind them of those 
excellent Christian principles for which their fore- 
fathers suffered. But when the Yearly Meeting con- 
vened in Philadelphia in 1823, and the minutes of 
the Meeting for Sufferings were read, severe reflec- 
*35 



410 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1827. 

tions were cast by the discontented party upon that 
body; it was accused of imposing a creed on the So- 
ciety ; and the noise and opposition made by the fol- 
lowers of Elias Hicks, was a clear indication of their 
defection from its principles, and from the foundation 
upon which the church of Christ is built, 

Efforts were made to change the constitution of 
the Meeting for Sufferings, by an alteration of the 
discipline, making the appointments to that service 
subject to frequent change. By this they hoped to ob- 
tain an influence in that body, which they could not 
expect in any other way. Such a proposal was 
brought up to the Yearly Meeting of Philadelphia in 
1825, but dismissed as unsafe. They next endea- 
voured to undermine the institution of elders in the 
same way, but with equal want of success. The 
printed sermons of their leader were widely dis- 
tributed among the members, to give strength to 
their cause ; and a periodical paper was set up, 
which contained essays openly attacking the acknow- 
ledged doctrines of the Society, and tending to sub- 
vert the faith of the members in the divinity of Christ, 
and his propitiatory sacrifice for the sins of mankind. 
And it was not long before they determined to use 
some further means to bring about a revolution. 

Previous to the Philadelphia Yearly Meeting of 
1827, one of their leaders in the station of a min- 
ister, went about into various parts of the coun- 
try, under profession of paying a religious visit 
to Friends; but holding private meetings, with a 
view of promoting disaffection, and preparing the 
minds of such as he could trust, for a separation, 
provided they failed in certain plans for gaining con- 
trol of the Yearly Meeting. Other individuals were 
actively engaged in various places, in fomenting dis- 
satisfaction, and promoting, in the different Quarterly 
Meetings, the appointment of such representatives to 
the Yearly Meeting, as they knew to be in favour of 
their plans. Two of the disaffected Quarterly Meet- 



1827.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 411 

ings doubled their usual number of representatives, 
and a third increased them one half, in hopes of ob- 
taining a sufficient pre valency of their party, to en- 
able them to choose for the meeting a clerk subser- 
vient to their purposes. Their proposals for remo- 
delling the discipline, in respect to the appointment 
of elders and members of the Meeting for Sufferings, 
were renewed, and a remonstrance was sent up 
against the latter body, for declining to acknowledge 
the right of arbitrary change, unauthorized by the 
discipline. 

By this time great numbers had imbibed a spirit of 
insubordination, and a determination to support the 
cause of Elias Hicks, particularly within the limits of 
the Yearly Meetings of New York, Philadelphia, 
Ohio, and Baltimore ; and by specious representations, 
had attached to themselves the affections of a large 
number more, who saw not through the arts of these 
people, and were not clearly aware of the consequen- 
ces of suffering themselves to be carried along with 
the current,, by their relatives and friends. Many 
were the earnest warnings, and appeals, and exhorta- 
tions in gospel love and solicitude, by which faithful 
friends endeavoured to win them back to the fold ; 
but in most cases their remonstrances were disre- 
garded. It became obvious that an irreconcilable 
breach was made upon the unity of the church, and 
all eyes were fixed upon the Yearly Meeting of Phil- 
adelphia, where the stand was taken against these 
attempts to disorganize the Society. 

The Yearly Meeting at length convened, and the 
representatives being desired to propose a clerk, great 
efforts were made to urge the nomination of one of 
their party. Well known as the disorganizing efforts 
of this individual were, it was not likely that faithful 
Friends could unite in such a nomination ; and after 
being together nearly three hours, the representatives 
concluded to report that they were unable to unite on 
any name. This report being made to the next sitting 



412 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP [1827. 

of the Yearly Meeting, William Jackson, an ancient 
and highly esteemed minister of New Garden in 
Pennsylvania, arose and said, that during his attend- 
ance of that meeting, embracing a period of sixty 
years, it had been the custom to continue the old 
clerk until another could be appointed in the unity ; 
and he therefore proposed that the present clerk, who 
had acceptably served the meeting, should be con- 
tinued; which was accordingly done, several even 
of the opposition eventually acceding to it. Their 
plan of seizing the Yearly Meeting, thus being 
frustrated, the next day the assistant clerk tried 
another artifice, professing that as an irreconcila- 
ble difference existed in the Society, he could not 
conscientiously act in that station, and proposed an 
indefinite adjournment of the meeting. Jt was evi- 
dently his design to disband the Yearly Meeting, and 
thereby furnish his party with a pretext for setting 
up a meeting of their own. Friends were sorrow- 
fully afiected with a sense of the mischievous work- 
ings of a rending spirit, seeking to reduce the Society 
to a state of anarchy and confusion ; but being still 
favoured with confidence in the mercy and all suffici- 
ency of the Great Head of the Church, they remained 
calm and centered to the divine gift in themselves, 
while the disaffected party were urging the meeting 
to adjourn. When, however, these found that they 
could not succeed in breaking up the meeting, but 
that it was enabled to maintain its dignity and author- 
ity, in refusing to comply with this unprecedented and 
disorderly proposal, the assistant clerk, notwithstand- 
ing his previous declaration, orlered still to serve the 
meeting, thus acknowledging the regularity of the 
present organization. 

During the week of the Yearly Meeting, the disaf- 
fected party held several secret meetings among them- 
selves, in order to arrange a plan for dismembering 
the Yearly Meeting ; and prepared an address to the 
members of the Society ; declaring that " Doctrines 



1827.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 413 

held by one part of the Society, and which we believe 
to be sound and edifying, are pronounced by the 
other part to be unsound and spurious" — adding, that 
" from this" has resulted the present state of things, 
and calling upon their friends to make "a quiet re- 
treat." This was of course esteemed by Friends as a 
declaration of their separation from the Society; and 
well would it have been for the body, if they had put 
in practice their profession of " making a quiet re- 
treat." But so far was this from being the case, that 
at the very next sitting they came into the Yearly 
Meeting, and clamorously, though ineffectually, op- 
posed the appointment of a committee to visit the 
subordinate meetings, seeing that this measure would 
greatly interfere with their purpose of obtaining undis- 
turbed possession of many of the Quarterly and 
Monthly Meetings. The Yearly Meeting closed its 
session in the customary manner, agreeing to meet at 
the usual time the next year, " if consistent with the 
Divine will," — to which conclusion no objection was 
offered. 

In the next Sixth month, the Separatists held a gen- 
eral meeting in Philadelphia, and issued an address to 
their adherents, calling upon them to appoint repre- 
sentatives to a " Yearly Meeting" " of those favoura- 
ble to their views," to be held in the Tenth month. 
The work of disorganization had now fairly com- 
menced. Monthly and Preparative Meetings, under 
the control of the Separatists, declared themselves 
independent of their regular Quarterly Meetings, and 
in direct violation of the discipline, associated them- 
selves with those which were alike disaffected ; indi- 
viduals professedly transferring their rights of mem- 
bership from one meeting to another, without having 
changed their residence, or obtained the necessary 
certificates ; and sorrowful were many instances of 
violence and disorder by which they sought to accom- 
plish their professed purpose of "making a quiet 
retreat." They were determined on gaining posses- 



414 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1828. 

sion of as much of the property of the Society as 
possibly could be obtained. For this purpose, in 
many cases, they forcibly seized on the books, and 
even on the meeting-houses ; and by introducing 
persons who had no right to a seat in meetings 
for discipline, often obliged Friends to adjourn 
them ; when their party kept the house, and changed 
the time of holding the meetings ; so that when 
Friends again met on the usual day, they found them- 
selves locked out of their own meeting-houses, and 
obliged to seek other places in which to assemble. 
They also assumed, notwithstanding their act of sep- 
aration, still to hold the name of " Friends," by which 
disingenuous artifice they gained the confidence of 
some weak minds, and glossed over in some degree 
their unsoundness of principle. In the Fourth month 
of the next year, one week before the time to which 
the Yearly Meeting of Philadelphia had adjourned, 
they again held what they termed a "Yearly Meet- 
ing," which E. Hicks attended, and his presence was 
minuted with expressions of approbation and unity. 

Immediately after the separation within the Year- 
ly iMeeting of Philadelphia, similar disorganizing pro- 
ceedings were undertaken by the disaffected in other 
parts of the United States. In the Fifth month of 
] 828, the Yearly Meeting of New York was the scene 
of their violence and uproar, to a disgraceful extent; 
Friends adjourning to another building, to escape the 
intrusion of disowned persons, and the Separatists hold- 
ing their meeting after the adjournment had taken 
place. In Ohio, Indiana, and Maryland, similar 
scenes were witnessed ; until at length these disaf- 
fected persons had generally left the Society, and set 
up an organization of their own. 

This separation, extensive as it was, occurred but 
in five of the ten Yearly Meetings of which the Soci- 
ety was composed, and was publicly testified against 
by all the Yearly Meetings on the American conti- 
nent, as well as by that of London. 



1828.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 415 

In reviewing this fearful defection from the truth 
of the Gospel, it may be well to bear in mind, that 
although a high profession of exalting the doctrine of 
the immediate operations of the Holy Spirit, was 
made by the leaders and co-operators in this se- 
cession, yet its progress, and the sentiments which 
they avowed, clearly and abundantly proved that it 
was, on the contrary, a practical departure in heart 
from the secret reproofs and instructions of this bles- 
sed Spirit, that opened the way for the entrance of 
the spirit of unbelief, and denial of some of the funda- 
mental articles oft* Christian doctrine. So that no 
argument can be drawn from the occurrence of this 
heresy, adverse to the great and all-important Chris- 
tian principle, that the Light of Christ in man, is his 
sufficient and saving Teacher, and Guide into all truth. 



CONCLUSION. 



No attempt has been made to embody the whole 
history of the Society of Friends in these few pages. 
Many volumes would be requisite, to describe even a 
small portion of the gracious dealings of the Lord 
with his dependent children, and the wonderful in- 
stances of divine support vouchsafed to them in the 
hour of need. But in the view which we have briefly 
taken of the principal events characterizing the rise 
and progress of this people, the reader may have 
observed, whether in the early or the later days of 
the Society, that though exceedingly various were the 
natural dispositions and conditions of the individuals 
successively brought into the service of the Truth, 



418 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OP 

yet the work of the Holy Spirit has been one and the 
same. In every instance, the operation of divine 
grace has been accompanied by a great abasement of 
self, a deep sense of the fallen and corrupt state of 
man, and a looking to the Lord alone for help and 
strength to overcome the evil propensities of the unre- 
generate nature. There has been a conviction that no 
half work would be accepted, but that the whole heart 
was to be cleansed and renewed, and the whole mind 
and will made submissive to the manifestations of the 
light of Christ Jesus in the soul. 

We have seen the faithfulness of- many of these ser- 
vants of the Lord, and observed that their devoted 
lives furnished conclusive evidence that they knew 
and felt the force of the apostolic precept : " Ye are 
not your own, for ye are bought with a price ; there- 
fore glorify God in your bodies and in your spirits, 
which are God's." We have also remarked the mar- 
vellous manner in which they were preserved and 
supported in the hour of trial, and the futility of all 
attempts to suppress the growth of the plant of the 
Lord's planting, even by the most severe and sangui- 
nary persecution. We have likewise, on the other 
hand, had sorrowful evidence that this Society has 
not been without its troubles from false brethren, by 
whom, under various specious disguises, the great 
enemy of Truth has striven to divide and scatter the 
flock from the fold. But the Lord on high, has proved 
himself" mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, 
than the mighty waves of the sea;" so that neither 
persecution nor apostacy has been able to prevail, and 
this people may well acknowledge with gratitude 
their experience of the fulfilment of the gracious pro- 
mise to the true chnrch : " Oh thou afflicted, tossed 
with a tempest and not comforted ; behold I will lay 
thy stones with fair colours, and lay thy foundations 
with sapphires. — Whosoever shall gather together 
against thee, shall fall for thy sake. — No weapon that 
is formed against thee shall prosper; and every 



THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 417 

tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment, thou 
shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants 
of the Lord, and their righteousness is of me, saith the 
Lord." (Isaiah, liv. 11, 15, 17.) 

In this day of outward ease, that great enemy of 
Truth has changed his mode of attack ; the spirit of 
the world, in its various transformations, is now the 
chief snare laid for the feet of the unwary ; and many 
have fallen a prey to its entanglements. But the 
Society as a body is still favoured with the over- 
shadowing wing of its Almighty Protector; its assem- 
blies are at times consolingly owned by his living 
presence ; and his Word still dwells as the holy Com- 
forter in the hearts of the faithful. And judging even 
with the eye of human reason, notwithstanding the 
many failings which we cannot but acknowledge, 
there appears no probability that this body, as some 
have desired to believe, is likely to become extinct, or 
to loose that influence for good, which, in proportion 
to its faithfulness, it has at various times been permit- 
ted to exercise in the community of professing Chris- 
tians. It is not surely arrogating too much to our- 
selves, to encourage the belief that the same Hand 
which brought this vine out of Egypt and planted it, 
will still watch over its growth, will water it every 
moment with the dew of heaven, and preserve its 
fruits to his own praise. The Society in England, 
notwithstanding a recent separation of some who have 
returned, into bondage to the beggarly elements, is 
said to be increasing, a considerable number of per- 
sons having joined them within a few years. There 
can be no doubt of the increase of Friends within all 
the Yearly Meetings on the continent of America, 
except one or two. In some parts of those Yearly 
Meetings, situated on the eastern side of the Alle- 
gheny mountains, a falling off has occurred, while in 
other parts meetings have enlarged. Those in Maine 
have latterly increased in number, and some of them 
in size, while some of other locations in New Eng- 

36 



418 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF 

land may be reduced. About the time of the revo- 
lutionary war, there were but three or four quarterly 
meetings composing the Yearly Meeting of New 
York. They have since numbered nine, and are 
spread over a great part of the state. The trials of 
that period had the effect of deepening many, both in 
New York and Philadelphia Yearly Meetings, in a 
heartfelt acquaintance with the precious principles of 
their education ; and so it was afterwards with re- 
spect to the Hicksite convulsion. The various tes- 
timonies of the Society obtained a stronger hold on 
the minds of those of the rising generation who had 
witnessed the troubles of that day, and the discipline 
came to be more generally appreciated and carried 
into effect. It has been remarked that there are now 
ten young men in the city of Philadelphia, who adhere 
to the plain and simple attire of the true Quaker, for 
one at the time of the revolutionary war; and it is 
believed that there never were within this Yearly 
Meeting, so many consistent plain men and women, 
between the ages of sixteen and thirty-five years, as 
there now are ; and this notwithstanding the diminu- 
tion of numbers occasioned by the Hicksite separa- 
tion. 

Virginia and North Carolina being slave-holding 
states, many Friends from those parts have emigra- 
ted towards the west. It is however said that the 
emigration of Friends from North Carolina has 
nearly ceased, and that they are again increasing. 
There is reason to hope also that Friends of Balti- 
more Yearly Meeting are on the increase. Ohio and 
Indiana are comparatively new Yearly Meetings, 
supposed to contain from thirty-five to forty-thousand 
individuals ; amongst whom are many experienced 
and consistent members, who, retaining their integ- 
rity, may be as salt among that growing people. 

On the continent of Europe there are several little 
clusters of persons professing with Friends, in 
France, Germany and Norway; and even in the 



THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 419 

Australian colonies of Great Britain, several meet- 
ings are maintained, which if truly established on 
Christ Jesus the rock of ages, may be the nucleus of 
a considerable body at a future day. 

It ought to be borne in mind, that the enlightened 
men and women who were employed of the Lord in 
gathering our religious Society in the beginning, 
were fully persuaded that they were not collecting 
together a mere sect or division of the Christian 
church; but that the principles which they advo- 
cated, being no other than those of ancient pure 
Christianity, were designed by the Almighty, in a 
time to come, to extend over the whole earth. This 
was unquestionably their belief, and this belief ani- 
mated them through all discouragements, to press 
forward in their endeavours to spread the glorious 
gospel in its own simplicity and purity. And nothing 
that has since occurred, has changed the probability 
of this result; but far otherwise. Even now the fields 
are white unto harvest. The minds of men are more 
and more opening out in many places, to receive the 
genial beams of the truth as it is in Jesus. Several 
of the testimonies held forth by ancient Friends, have 
since their day found a remarkable place in the es- 
timation of serious individuals of various names ; 
others of these testimonies begin now to engage in- 
quiring attention ; and it remains to be seen, whether 
the faithfulness of a future generation shall not be 
made use of in the divine Hand, to spread the know- 
ledge of the truth over the lands as the waters cover 
the sea. 

Should this be happily the case through the medium 
of our highly favoured Society, it is scarcely needful 
to say, that it must be by an uncompromising adher- 
ence to the ancient principles of the church, and a 
practical exemplification of their efficacy, in life and 
conduct. Divine truth is the same in the present day, 
as it was when the apostles went forth in the power 
of the Spirit of their Divine Master ; and as it was 



*ii 



420 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF 

when George Fox and his fellow-labourers, in a 
measure of the same spirit, boldly testified against 
spiritual wickedness in high places ; and the same 
necessity exists, as ever did, for the faithful mainte- 
nance of their testimony to pure and spiritual religion, 
in the face of a world lying in wickedness, or lulled 
in the lap of error, disguised under the plausible ap- 
pearance of truth. 

Let then our dear young Friends, on whom the 
hopes of the church are placed for a succession of 
faithful standard-bearers in the army of the Lamb, 
examine well their position, as inheritors of these 
precious principles, and see that they fall not back 
from that holy vocation wherewith their fathers were 
called. Let them not seek to dw 7 ell in their ceiled 
houses, while the house of God lies w T aste : but be 
witling, with holy magnanimity and true devotedness 
of heart, and in the pure Christian zeal of the Lord's 
ow T n begetting, individually to seek to know their 
calling, and therein abide. 



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